Mortal Knowledge

The way rain trickled
through vine leaves
and entered his mouth
seemed as if he were sipping

the snow queen’s blood. Sorrow
from the slit vein
of a cloud.

Three days earlier, she stood
draped in her ermine drifts
hair glinting on the pines

as her hand dared to touch his chest
The heat would only hasten
her death

but she wanted to feel
a heart, a rhythmic shovel
struggling to clear
(though impossibly)
the obstacles to love.
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The allegorical aspects of the "Snow queen"have always fascinated me; and I never saw her as a totally cold and malicious character. I often thought of her as someone afraid to melt, to become vulnerable and attached. Naturally, her life depends on the ice and the frozen climate but beyond the physical traits of weather and season, she was doomed by the nature of her soul. She was also parnanoid, fearful of  giving because it might take away her identity and let it blend into another's because of . love's devotion and sacrafice. Many  women fear that as well. Yet, the mortal heart in all its complexity, the emotional center of dreams, passion, love,  faith and strength, will strive against impossible odds to find hope. And even  if the effort fails, the trying is the gift, the struggle to clear the way and still believe it is worth doing. This  is the knowledge, the human wisdom she wanted to know and feel even  if it meant a premature death, her life ending before the Spring equinox.