THE SUN AND THE STARS

I have yet to ski up the mountain side
And for days now the sun has not been seen.
I have circled the mire in man-made tracks
With freezing yoghurt visibility.

This afternoon I sit by the window,
Watching the spot where the mountain should be.
Now is the time - something stirs inside me,
But I haven't long before it gets dark.

A few moments later the wind whips away
Long sections of thick milky shroud.
I lace up my boots and step outside
And see promise written all over the sky.

Time being rationed; I go up the steep path,
Warming up quickly, still protected by trees.
When all I can hear is my intake of breath,
I close my mouth, the air is too cold.

I stop in my tracks when I've passed the treetops,
At once I know this day will stay with me.
I glide across the mountain side
Through powdered silver ridges,
Towards the disc of platinum, setting in the west.
It shines through a sheerness of grey
And I'm flanked by a thousand diamonds,
Sparkling on the crests of this Winter Sahara's dunes.

"Thank you stars," I whisper, "I am watching you."
A thousand voices whisper back: "We are watching you."