I look at the smooth, virginal snow
For an untrodden place to go.
Here and there, I see others’ tracks,
Where they’ve pursued a trivial task of this or that.
But their adventures matter little to me.
There’s a winter world I want to see.
Who wants someone else to follow behind?
In school, don’t we all want to lead the line?
Yes, I want to walk my own way
Where there’s no blackened snow along the highway.
Give me a wood or field to venture through,
Where I can walk through the white with You.
There’s a stir in the wind,
Making the branches scratch themselves again,
And caressing my bare face
As I walk at a snow-slowed pace.
After a while, I turn around and make my way back.
But it makes me frown to follow my own path.
No. This somehow won’t do.
I need another adventure to pursue.
But I look at my hands a time or two.
They’re cold, already turning blue.
I realize there’s only one trip through this Winter snow.
“Make it count,” I say soft and low.