The Storm Has Passed

One early dawn, I walked a path
A storm had draped with snow.
Though winter lessened in her wrath,
The frost that trailed her aftermath
Had slapped my face with ice in tow,
Her wintry grip to show.

I heard a voice amid the gale
As winter slowed her dance.
It echoed through the falling hail
And sounded like a mournful wail,
Which freed me from a frigid trance.
I chanced a wary glance.

It said to me, “Forget the past,
The pages that have turned.
The ink has faded, time has passed,
And holding on will only cast
Continued pain you have not earned,
But keep what you have learned.”

I weighed the words, then looked around
To share my thankful glee.
But no one there my eyes had found;
I set my eyes upon the ground;
No footprints 'round that I could see,
But ones left there by me.