A Path In Winter: With Seraph

So falls the snow on laden branches.

Treading deeply through winter's curtain

the tracks diverge in two directions.

Do I run in broken silence, or

do I walk in measured symphony?

While autumn sleeps and spring awaits

the only sound that carries is that of

snapping branches; the very life blood

that feeds it destroys it - frozen water.

Amid the snowy Aspen and

the gaze of watchful owls, I stop and

tap a limb bowed with wonder;

it rewards me with a playful 

tease of powdery glaze.

Icy slopes climb while ground cover 

vainly vies for its previous ownership.

Thin air swirls in metered gulps,

and I, dizzy from height and beauty,

take a moment's respite on a fallen log.

My attention is focused on the

grandeur of this hallowed place,

where life stands still and the spirits

of the heavens draw eddies in the clouds.

Author's Note

It started with a beautiful opening line. Ever have one of those and wonder how the hell you're going to finish the entire rest of the story?
Also, this was a collaborative writing with someone whose style matches mine. As an exercise, seek out a co-writer and see what the two of you can create.

Reviews

[Lola Nation]

Do I run in broken silence, or
do I walk in measured symphony? --- beautiful.

in fact all measured with inches of silk, this poem is a cornucopia of satin words, lovely in all sound.

[Honeypot]

Ha, collaborations are fun. Especially when you both go in with no expectations. This is a pretty winter poem with some kind of underlying angst, perhaps a hard decision to make. The poem falls just slightly short of tranquil, but still you can hear the winter's quiet as you read the poem.

[*]

Execellent poem. Gave me a real vision of winter. (One of) my favorite line: Icy slopes climb while ground cover vainly vies for its previous ownership. It makes me wonder if you had any help from Robert Frost? Great job.