Winter Rune

Hands raised before me,
I reach them to the sun,
And scratch the sky-

Imagining paint trail
Where my claws are laid,

The tips of my fingers,
The strokes of fate.

My fingers drip.
Drip and long..

And I'm trying to taste this,
Trying to put my finger on it,
Trying to understand
What the wind is telling me...

But it is slow...,
The revealing in the Season of Snow,
Is always long,
Always internal,
Something...
Calling us back home...
And I,
Caught between two worlds.

Longing
And Having.

Feeling
And Seeing

Control
& None.

I am the Watcher.
And the Havoc Reeker...

The Master
And his enemy...

Self
Watching Ego,

And ever
Getting caught in between.