Tracks

As a Humanist, I do not celebrate the religious aspect of the Christian Christmas, but I do take pleasure in the joy of exchanging little gifts with family and special friends. It is a time of year when I am encouraged to share with the less fortunate and this does not require me to be of any religious faith. For those readers who follow the Christian faith, I wish you a very Merry Christmas; to others, I wish you a Happy Holiday Season.

In the spirit of sharing, here is a poem I wrote for my wife few years ago.

Tracks

The spruce pine and balsam are bowed
under the sticking heavy clumps of snow
forming new greeting card scenes at each turn
or at the rising of the trail where we pause
and savour the beauty of clear cobalt blue sky
but we soon chill from our exertions

So we push on slowly climbing grades
and gliding like ghosts down slopes
only the silent hiss of skis on snow
marks our passing
or perhaps some unseen furry or feathered
watcher in the woods notices the blue
and green-clad forms whispering by

This day you lead since snow is light
and easily flattens under your skis
and I follow along staying in your tracks
doggedly poling up the hills with arms flexing
sometimes herring-boning sometimes
by strength alone charging up
and then rest while you glide down
giving you space to pick yourself up
from laughing bum-bouncing stop

In heavy snow I lead breaking trail
so you can follow without tiring too soon
along the trail that takes us farther from base
until at last we round the loop and tell our aching
arms and legs that it is only four k=s
and mostly downhill coasting gliding
whooping gleeful warnings of sudden dips
or whooshing close under snowy bows

I pause now at the crest and watch as you
zip down the grade snow-plowing at turns
snow powder flying from the skis like contrails
of some low-flying snowbird
How many years have we taken turns
making trails for each other
trails sometimes not easy to follow
as our different styles and ways
mark our passing along the long trail

Without the tracks where would we be
struggling alone along uncharted paths
searching for secret passages
explorers in this white snowscape
that challenges us with its charm and beauty
to plod on through deep snow
or slip by on crisp dusting
knowing the other has gone ahead
to show the way