“In life it’s not where you go, but who you travel with”
 
 
Winter is coming,
there’s some snow on the ground,
the indifferent wind has an edge,
the sun seems so distant.

Bare trees,
 seasonal skeletons
pasted on the late autumn sky
hunkered down
in slumber.

Thick and gray clouds
shouldering heaviness,
burdened by their payload,
I think it might snow.

I‘m out with my Siberian huskies,
Sasha and Kimba,
a source of unrelenting joy,
they need to run,
I think it sets them free,
like spirits in the wind.

Standing on a footbridge
overlooking the North Saskatchewan River,
I see a ballet on water,
little ice floes performing,
an eternal dance of surrender,
down streaming in life.

We too are like ice floes,
dancing down our destiny river.

We too are like river beds,
 the water of life
run through us.

We too are like water,
our spirits
the essence of life,
winter is coming.