User Review( votes)
written by: Art Blacktooth
I am inclined to believe the ice has frozen my essence. It has crystallized every cell of my existence, each drifting flake a unique replacement for genetic scripture and code.
When I look into the steel eyes of winter, I will know the summer of my youth has been swept away, each color replaced by twinkling shades of white and blue. Autumn will be a swift memory of death as I forge this crystal hammer.
As my spirits harden into a stern block of ice, notions of joy will cease in this frigid chamber, a tomb for the memories of love and forbidden passion. Only the echoes of cracking ice and bone will fill this heart.
At last, when my resolve has been sealed in white, when loneliness has reached its fever pitch, a single penetrating ray shall reach through intangible clouds, a warm hand of light striking down a lone flower, a dormant seed waiting for nourishment.
Can you reckon this second chance for redemption, this soft caress of mercy and warmth? Soon the cracking begins, a deep clap of thunder as my glacier breaks free, a colossal giant who has spent his years rejecting kindness.
I am melting now, a cold fragment of judgment and frost. May the rivers of yesterday thaw. Let them flow in regret and quench the dry earth, for I am a tropical island, an oasis filled with hope and forgiveness, a vast ocean teeming with life and possibility...
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Approaching high winter, I found myself itching to reflect on the cold and frosty nature of our darkest season. Although I live in sunny Florida, I remember the frigid winters and endless months of boredom in icy New England. Glacier is a soft reflection about growing old and bitter, about holding on to memories and emotions until they harden like ice. At the end of the day, when our life has served its purpose, can we discover the warmth and forgiveness necessary to thaw our frozen spirits? That is truly the ultimate question...