Approbation of an Irrational Heart ( Poetry Collection)

Winter's Cryptic Air---

Winter's Cryptic Air--

Frost's cryptic air
and bare charcoal trees
look for pieces of themselves
above and below
and the spaces in between.

Owls and angels alike
watch each and every stranger
passing through the woods
with heavy hearts
and they witness the chilling silence
of lost dreamers underfoot.

And as winter buries them
and silences their requiems,
I have to wonder
how many roads less traveled by
ended up this way?

Diverged and twisted
like a labyrinth throughout
the unknown depths
of these snow-covered woods,
few have walked
the winding roads ahead of me,
and even fewer have seen
what is on the other side -
and I imagine how few
ever get the chance
to savor the fleeting moments
of weightlessness,
of pure warmth untouched
by the harsh winters below.

So who am I to stop
by the woods and ponder
these snow-covered lanes
that are far too great
and elusive for me?

Who am I to venture
where great spirits of old,
far greater than I,
traveled alone
and still faced a tragic death
in the bitter cold?

Though I may not find
rest or peace or even joy
in these ominous wintry woods
where dreams are carried for miles
only to be cut short
and laid to rest in winter's tomb,
Frost's pensive sighs
from centuries ago
speak to the aching soul
that will not rest easily
or settle for the well-traveled road.

Will this make all the difference?

Or will my death and fool's courage
amount to nothing
and be met with indifference?

But no matter how merciless
the untimely winds may be
or how lost, unspoken words
hang heavily in the air,
I know I cannot sleep
until I travel many miles
to see for myself
everything I could possibly be.

__________________

Thank you for reading.❤️

Good night

-- Isa