Where winter blows

When winter blows before my heart

upon that road of endless thoughts,

snow falls from the sky of my doubts,

it spreads a chill upon my hopes.

 

But the journey though often alone

has the chance for curves

to bend away from this icy path

unto somewhere new and warm.

 

That image comes into the head

of the countless detours which have come

from the highway that seemed to have no end

along the trial through frigid scenery,

which didn’t offer a chance to rest.

 

Inside the motor keeps running

even when almost out of gas,

because the map in my mind

still has places marked of my dreams,

directions coming while I sleep.

 

I hold onto those images as postcards

of where I’ve yet to reach,

they remain the compass I follow

through the blizzards and nights,

how it keeps me going

no matter what the season or weather.