Still

There is a snow covered mountain far away,
but it's a deep blue fjord in front of me,
the sun cleansing ill forgotten souls,
showering light in little glades everywhere
the cold wind still stings,but the warmth
soothes the discomfort.
Little white dots on the water
churning the still waters,into creamy white
ripples of spring,the shores lull themselves
to sleep, while the icy cold water
inches it's way through the
tiny coves,in isles so soft and sheen.
Heart and mind is at rest,pulse slow,
blood streaming gently,the soul is put at rest.
Birds chatter around me,
men and women talk around me,
the wind whistles it's name,
I listen and I sway.