My heart is on the mountain,
in the cold air,
where trees grow tall.
I left it in a pile of icy dreams,
blown hard like glass, unbroken.
The sound of a steel edge cutting into the snow
haunts me from miles away.
I close my eyes and feel the wind again,
beneath my eyelids, I grow light with the sense of flight.
This piece of wood is a part of me.
I am a part of it.
We are one.

The pain and ache of rising from my failures is fading...
but the remembrance of exhilaration still flows inside of me.
That sense of drifting, feeling the earth guide you down a pathway.
The right way.

My breath flows from my open mouth
filling the air with a cloud of vapor.
Laughter and shouting surrounds me,
warmth fills me as I smile.

My eyes open and I'm sitting at my desk chair,
NF in my headphones, lines of code in front of me,
but I can still hear the sound of my heart beating miles away
in time with the sound of razor edges carving snow.

I left my heart in the mountain.