My spirit is snow bound
like a village under siege
drifts laying hold my heart
freezing out spring joy.

Yet even the coldest mountain peaks
cannot resist buds,
forcing their way to leaf
and the chatter and whistle of birds
even the clouds can not still them
even the buzzing fly
heralds hope.

When one has been trapped in an ice age
hot tears are painful
dictionary definitions of hope and trust
are meaningless
I do not want a book
or the gleam of people’s eyes
to convict me of all I am not
and leave me floundering
in cold drifts.

Rather
living water
springing from within
the source my heat, melting the snow
the flavor, mineral riches of healing
to body and soul
Living water
bringing eternal spring
keeps drifts at bay
forever.

(March 1994)