Treading the frost culminates in hardening the ice.
Ice is cold as my love is warm.
Tomorrow is worn as now is bare.
South forgets as north reminds.
Present accepts as future awaits.
Unexpected tenderness fulfils elementary longings
softly balancing, softly balancing, softly balancing.
Ice hardened,
I cross the river.
Nature's coldness is not
human coldness.
