Winter's Messenger

Ice upon a Snow Queen’s lashes
glisten once more—
tears harden and snowflakes capture her breath.
Threads of hair turn sapphire blue
merge with the frost.
Her face becomes marble in its frame—
summer come no more—
the sorrow in a winter’s wind.

Snow Queen, sleeping beauty,
where has your King gone.
"A broken twine between us,"
she whispers.
Spiral of dread erupts from her snowflake line lips—
turning blue.
“Are you listening,
to me?”

How far does the wind travel—
how long will Winter’s breathe knock till you answer,
Mister Summer,
hands fierce and warm,
what jobs you’ve held
when moon is swallowed by your fire.

“Mister Summer, she asks you,
where have you gone and why you have not come.”
“Tell her,” he says, “that I am Mister Summer and she, Miss Winter
and through the days may our feet grow weary.
For I will always be chasing for her—
as she for me.

“When the sun rises and the moon falls,
and when the moon climbs and the sun dives,
may our feet never stick as the earth turns.
May the trees turn colors,
may the flowers reach from beneath her snow.

May her love be as bitter
as her gripping frost
and may my rage be as fierce as my blaze.
May she not forget our children, we love so dearly.
Spring, the daughter of love.
Fall, the son of glee.”

And so the Snow Queen despised such a reply
and as the earth turned
her bitterness thicken and so did the snow.
Ice spread like a massive flood.
“Let him know,” her brows pinched together,
“how deep my love goes when he finally reaches
the surface of my core.”

And so the Ice Age came and with the years
Mister Summer found her core.
Life flourished where ice melted.
He smiled not knowing why she hid,
such a secret for him.

And now as earth turns,
and the surface glimmers with heat,
her ice melts and she embraces his warmth.
“Let her know,” He says, “how deep my love goes
when her last tear melts away.”