Footsteps In the Snow
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Footsteps in the Snow is a poem from my book Melodious Verse.
A prose poem written in free verse and 395 words.
Image by me, silhouette of Footsteps in the Snow.
Footsteps in the Snow
In the cold grip of winter’s night it is the season of nature’s rest. All is not at peace in this time of rest for the forest. All does not sleep.
The call of the Raven can be heard in the distance, as it echoes off the mountains to the forest below. Black capped chickadees and Titmice can be heard playing in the evergreens. Sparkling gossamer snowflakes drift down from the heavens to the forest floor. Silently falling upon the trees and carpet of leaves at my feet to turn the forest white. Shimmering in the sun’s light as if enchanted by the frost the forest comes to life. With gleaming crystals of ice the forest appears to animate in the suns embrace.
Without a breeze in the air the only sounds to be heard are my footsteps and the calls of birds. With the crunch of each step to keep me company, I walk along the path through the trees. Night approaches and the forest grows silent. Gone are the calls of the forests winter residents. All I hear are my footsteps in the snow as I walk. The life giving sun now below the horizon and no moon to light my way. I set light a torch to see the path. In the dark the forest becomes a place of foreboding. The trees stand to the side like tombstones in a graveyard at night. The light from my torch dances in the dark to create ominous shadows on the path. Like demons in the night they hide behind trees from the only witness to their presence.
In the dark the snow keeps falling in and out of my torchlight. The moon and the stars hidden from my eyes in the night sky, I cannot track my progress. The path grows deeper with each step I take my destination farther in the night. I keep on walking through the cold and dark night hoping to see my destination. Wanting with each step to see the break in the trees that mark the open field to my home. I keep walking as if an eternity is passing searching for my destination. The snow crunching under my weight with each step. A dark foreboding chill runs down my spine. I look behind me and in the torchlight all I can see is footsteps in the snow.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
Copyright © Josehf Murchison | Year Posted 2023
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