The Streaks of the Sun

The emotions build

like snow on the distant mountain peak.

 

A rumble of thunder

too obscure to register

a feather in the landscape.

 

A crack

a peeling back

wilderness in a landslide.

 

Massive walls of white

colliding with the fragile bones.

 

Tumbling freely down the hillside

I wonder.

 

Is there color in this life?

 

My breathe is stolen

inhaled crystals

burning in my chest.

 

Endless white

searing away the preconceptions

searing away the expectations.

 

I come to a stop

exhausted

worn and bruised.

 

I lay for a moment

strength

slowly seeping in.

 

I raise my face

the streaks of the sun

register the colors.

 

I stagger to my feet

I can go on

I will not accept defeat.