Snow Magic

I am not a poet and I haven't the slightest idea what kind of poetry this could possibly be. Its a ritual of my own creation, and the words give me the same feeling I had when I wrote it. Enjoy!

I smell of grease and sweat;

Steel and cement.

 

My ears still ring
With the sounds of the factory;

Its seven twelve, and I can hear it

Pounding.

Softly against my car;

And a familiar feeling overtakes me; Draws me outside.

It is cold on my bare feet;

And I walk softly
So as not to disturb the quiet peace of the grey snowfall.

All is mostly dark;
And the light seems to come from the snow itself as it falls from far above me
And here I stand, in a small clearing,
Walled by snow-covored pines;


My skin grows tight as the cold seeps in,
But I welcome the feeling;
I close my eyes and breath slowly, savoring the
Crisp cold air and the smell of the pines.
Still I stand, letting the cold seep;
Stealing away my thoughts and doubts and worries;
Seeping away the dense layers of confused importance bound to my spirit until all that’s left is

Something far more primal. Something more ancient and magnificent and important than has ever been conceived; The driving force behind the entire universe itself is trembling inside of me, stirred  to remembrance by the purity of the cold.

And in my need for it; In my lust for it; In my search for something to unleash it; My quest for the key that unlocks it;

I remember the feel of her lips and how time stood still;
Her smell, her taste, her eyes and her hair;

How she holds my face with both hands when she smiles.

And it pulses; it becomes to strong a sensation to hold in; pushing inside me it surges and grows and threatens to burst violently out of me but instead;

It radiates.

Slowly.

Peacefully.

 

Consuming all of my being until the cold has been pushed back and I am warm with it;
Extending beyond Me and from Me to the air outside of Me; And the air is made Me and the trees are made Me and every particle beyond Me becomes a part of Me until it seems the whole of creation and everything apart of it screams I AM ME;

Bringing tears of ecstasy to my eyes.

Author's Note

I didn't really follow typical rules of grammar, just wrote what I was feeling.