moment

One moment slips into a doorway.
Windows blue with the dance of ice crystals
hold candles that light first one footfall then another waiting for the
sound of snow to begin.
In Reykjavik,
the wind listens for a sigh that comes after love finds its reason to
exist.
Roads that wind and twist their way to the heart
smile to seagulls gyrating in amber clouds.
Always,
there is the sound of Reykjavik
in notes played upon the soul.
Always,
in Reykjavik,
there is the wind that plays with rainbows glowing against northern
lights.
Always in Reykjavik,
there are footfalls in the snow;
one moment slipping into a doorway;
a symphony of emotion never forgotton.