I struggled to see behind my cold breath
And I could feel the thin air in my chest,
But thoughts of you were warmth to save from death.
These grey skies have clouded me in the west
And have painted an endless horizon,
Yet in the haze, I saw the sun suppressed.
I stood there and I felt my skin tighten
And gazed at what seemed like a stretching void,
Then closed my eyes so you might let light in.
The last of these winter winds now deployed
And the spring remains to be uncertain.
And though there is much more we can’t avoid,
I know that clouds can turn into mountains.