
A cold Winter morning on the trail reveals ribbons of ice.
Icy limbs reaching to the sky, trying to escape the earth.
Now free of their dark home, what are the ribbons of ice seeking?

A cold Winter morning on the trail reveals ribbons of ice.
Icy limbs reaching to the sky, trying to escape the earth.
Now free of their dark home, what are the ribbons of ice seeking?

A new year, a new day, illuminating the world below.
For some, a time for beginnings, for others nothing changes.
Each day is a new beginning, each moment is a new you.

Sunrise in a stand of trees, sentinels standing guard, watching.
Observing the world move about: births, lives, and deaths passing by.
Speaking to everything in their own way, what do they say?

A soft white blanket of snow covering everything in sight.
The Winter world seems silent and sleeping and turning inward.
Looking closely though, hints of life leave traces in the soft snow.

Are the conditions good or bad for you to be on your way?
Maybe you should wait a few days before deciding to fly.
No thanks, now is the only time that matters: it’s time to fly.