wintry impressions...

The sky is white. The color of the snow. The whole world pale. Trees puncturing the whiteness, frail and faint. The winter fog laying heavily on barns, trees, and fenceposts, coating everything in a white film.
I drive. Past familiar country roads. Past broken down tractors. Past little farmhourses, chimneys bellowing smoke. Cows mellowed under the foggy influence.
My brain drifts. Brought to reality only by sleepy little voices. Requesting apples, toys fallen on the floor, a new song on the radio.
My soul aches. Longing. Hazy desires, unmet. Many, oh so many, have been met...and yet...I long. Soldade.
I am restless. Driving this road. I want to keep driving. To see where it takes me. Let the fog and haze envelope me. So comforting, that presence, pressing down on all sides. Like a blanket after a long day, caressing my cheeks, softening reality. Afterwards, blue skies of Minnesota winters feels harsh, the sun a cold bright light.
Give me soft grey. Let me stare at distant forest lines on the horizon and dream. Without words. Soft thoughts, impressions, as the trees are softened by the mist. Dreams that beckon.
Dancing children. Dusty streets. Vendors shouting. Jungle sounds. Sunsets over the desert. Clear blue lakes. Aqua seas. White beaches. Cobbled streets. Laughter echoing as the stars come out. Calls to prayer. Silence shattered by the crackle of gunfire.  Crops growing in moist fields. Mist over rounded islands, jutting out of the water. Oh, an infinite number of places, faces, tongues. Oh, to venture into the unknown. To become one again who is now buried and forgotten. The brave. The strong.
And yet. Oh, how the present self is stretching too. Feeling skin settling onto tired bones, that still reach to hug and caress. Finding voice, becoming more than ever conceived. Learning to speak again, this language of motherhood. Expressing the inexpressible joy. Bathtime squeals, two fuzzy heads bent over books, dishes cleaned, sleepy sighs, rising bread.
New self emerging from the fog. Rubbing eyes, blinking in the sunlight, yawning, stretching these new muscles. And now, strength pulsating into eager limbs...running down the present path, into the unknown.