🔵 By Thomas Riffenburg. Photo by lauragrafie.
They ask me if I like the cold, the big fat flakes of snow, which fall upon the lands as if Thor were racing across the clouds in his chariot, the weight of the mighty God breaking apart the clouds into little pieces, stealing their warmth away and freezing them in sorrow, for me are they no more the beautiful clouds of the sky, they are simply dust, frozen dust, and who could like such a think which attempts to reclaim its once former warmth by stealing it away from another? No, I like not the warmth stealing snow and its brother cold. Were Odin to launch his spear into the sky, that mighty spear which never misses its mark, and smite all the clouds in the sky, once and for all, so that never would snow fall again, never would a cloud block the rays of the sun, I for one would have no sorrow over that loss….. and yet I wonder if without the cold I would have reason enough to remember her smile as much, would the stoppage of the ice-chill upon my flesh keep me in a continual state of warmth? Would the feeling of her warmth be less within me, now my mind fears and my heart races at the thought of her memory lost to me. How foolish, her I could never forget….. In the cold I stand, always allowing the theft of my warmth to it, for then it gives me reason to remember her, to hold her within the arms of my mind, for her smile is all I need, her beautiful smile warms me, and there is no cold strong enough to steal that warmth away from me.
. My Reason .
If I am lonely, feeling weary from fighting the good fight, which our people seem to no longer care for, I imagine softly kissing the whiteness of you neck, and I am renewed in strength.
When my thoughts are upon you, there are no clouds in my sky, silently I praise the Gods for they as I, understand the reason we dare not give up, you.