Two Roads

Today I closed up the house. I shut out the light and remembered the morning before. The morning before when I saw two roads. I saw the snow running away from me. All snaky across the pavement, it let itself go. It looked like severed souls fleeing their bodies. It looked like what I thought I should have seen when you left my body. Solid whispers, side winding through a moment. The road they purchased was the first road. It was the road highlighting a church. The place where we are supposed to seek comfort and answers. I left that place in tears and at a loss. The snow made the running souls visible. I saw them disappear into a small mound that looked to be their ultimate purpose. To find their place. I did not see them form. I saw their end but not their beginning. Somebody let the souls in when they knocked, it's good to have that.
The road changed as I drove away, it became a wild one. He ran fast and with strength. Powerful motion, powerful motive. No cement. His road was one of instinct, a road that didn't go around or knock down obstacles. This road let the natural traps exist, this road forced its travellers to use their talents. This road seemed wiser to me. It was bound up in the snow just as the paved road, but this snow was given a chance to be its ancient self. It wasn't covered or shovelled. The chemicals had not altered it's shape. It was left to insulate the earth and to prepare it for the spring. It was left to be tracked up by its travellers. It was left to remind the dormant seeds that it was not time to wake up yet. I watched the deer run from far off. I watched him close in from his road to the paved road. I watched him veer as his histories had dictated he should. I watched him control his environment, I watched him have a relationship with the ground, explaining to the earth with his hooves that he knew his path and would take it kindly. I remembered the young fawn I had seen when I still carried you, perhaps he had grown up and found the road he was meant for. He was so fast, it seemed he was daring his world to catch up. I wondered what incident had prompted such speed and direction. Of course in my mind, he had just seen another deer killed, and so he ran from the pain that many humans believe animals cannot feel because they do not speak our language. He leaped, and with each bash of his legs into the frozen dirt he spoke volumes. His language has a grace and understanding more profound than any sob or wail I could ever send to you. I want to learn this language. When I do, that is when I believe that my questions will be heard. It is on this road that I believe I will be given answers. This road is where I feel you the most Frost, unaltered and pure.

Night, night Frost
Mama loves you