Escaping

Lost in a world only I know,
my mind drifts as an autumn leaf
carried along by the wind,
taking me places where time is void.

Standing in a field of snow,
I am enveloped by silence and my down parka—
a solitary figure in an world untouched—
almost afraid, even, to breathe.

The snow looks soft, a smooth pillow,
polished by wind
until all edges and ridges
are round.

And quietness hangs upon us, the land and I,
like a gentle, but sturdy hand
resting on my shoulders,
until my senses fade
into nothing;
and I’m left with
only
my sight.

If I am still, and try real hard, though,
I can hear a bird,
a Solitaire,
enchant this world with it’s sweet music—
like Tumnus to Lucy
in those magical woods

It was winter there too, I think.
Always winter, never Christmas.
Yet it seemed so calm;
a stark contrast from that world of chaos
she came from—
bombs and death and
quarreling;
evil brothers who always tease.

Perhaps that is why I am here today,
looking for my own escape.
a chance to rest, to remember what
Love is, the same Love that came
One silent night.

But how can one find peace,
when all the world screams of
pain and sorrow?

News from another earth,
of car bombs exploding,
shredding buildings,
stealing life from those
trapped in the middle.

But it remains too distant,
like the mountains that stand proudly,
only inches tall,
guarding the horizon,
until they suddenly loom,
massive and daunting,
before your eyes.
And you hear about the school,
just a few miles from home.
Twelve students dead, and one teacher.

It makes your own life,
the deadlines,
the meetings,
the projects,
seem so trivial and pointless.

That is why, perhaps,
I do not move from where I am.
To move would only spoil
the beauty and magic
of this perfect, winter day
in the woods of my own
imagination.