white dream bright death

sweet to begin on a mountain s top majestic worlds before me pure gusts of fresh fallen danger surrounding to beat my heart life high a gentle powder free of hits its lines all mine and with a whoop i slide across the face quite slow at first just like the skein of snow i send down slope to match its schussing hiss as whooping echoes die across these valleys then a cold low rumble comes to fight for raw perfection like christ roaring to tear this hill like paper below me but i am safe and frozen in fear so thrilled by the crashing crystal explosion i ve touched off by the refusal to feel the posted danger to revel in spectacle as my fall takes its course down to clear away all that dared stand before this culling i see to my horror and feel his adrenaline rush that panic sends a man desperately fighting to reach alive the safe haven of trees off the track of our avalanche and almost hear his frantic breathing as i drop off the ridge to intercept that inevitable swallowing by the shrine of ripping tide he almost made it now all i hear is my own chopped breathing as i rush to save the ruining guilt and this struggling man s life i hardly sense that death of tons of fallen reigning snow but only see its flanks now rest upon the skier very likely killed though we were somewhat lucky as he d taken only a glancing blow and cover and since now i see one tip of one ski marking the grave happenstance calling me straight towards our frantic pull for life moving slowly to a trickle and though i made it to the scene in seconds it seemed to take the rest of this life and all of my time yet i could not have moved faster to use these tearing hands with new power found to find his still yet living boot in burial position sending me to thrash towards that quieting face his quieting face turning now so white as white as this resurrected death i see his glove i see it s clear and lunge grunting down to reach it now as empty as my lungs but now we dive to breath and quickly touch the hand the hand that arches back as i do taking in a sky so full of air and knowing we are saved in that fraction of a second and yet another i recognize this and that this hand the white right hand reaching with its old breaks still crooked is my ownthis is a dream i had awhile back please interpret!~D i did p.s.i've never snow skied so i really am lost out there Written February 9th, 2002 © on May 24 2002 05:43 AM PST, Frederic Jacob Gutknecht IV   0 • 10