Into the Woods

In the chilling grasp of Winter’s heart,

I came across gentle fawn of pure white,

And gazed solemnly into orbs of sight,

Coated in the vacant clarity of fright,

Whispering softly of freedom’s cost.

Down the path I ventured toward a start,

Called onward by chaos convalescent;

Each step, crackling, effervescent,

A lurching momentum transcendent,

That spoke plainly, “You’ll never be lost.”

Frozen ground began to crack apart;

Blessing of Spring now upon me,

Shining down for tired eyes to see,

A world that has always been free,

Of the icy grip of perception’s frost.

Rounding the spiral I came across a hart,

Its albinism reflecting light like snow,

And fright sequestered by gentle glow,

So that all the world may know,

That fear’s barrier was forever crossed.