Winter's Lullaby

After the snow,

there is a moment of utter stillness.

A moment to move forward

or to stay.

I always stayed.

Always planted myself in the snow until

a cold sleepiness would form over my eyes,

leading to the final darkness.

I was not ready to give you that power.

That power is not for you.

That power is not for me.

It is for the fates to decide.

When I felt you pull me deeper into the cold

I ran.

I found whatever drop of light I could

and set the forest ablaze.

Fire (1735) by Johann Justin Preissler