Skating

The following poem describes almost exactly the sensations and feelings I have had numerous times when skating alone outside (the best way to enjoy skating). Today was the first time this year that I have had occasion to lace up my skates again. Although the experience (in a public, indoor arena) was not up to the same standard as outdoor skating, the fun of actually skating again was quite adequate! So to commemorate another season, here is a beautiful poem!

The Skater

My glad feet shod with the glittering steel
I was the god of the winged heel.

The hills in the far white sky were lost;
The world lay still in the wide white frost;

And the woods hung hushed in their long white dream
By the ghostly, glimmering, ice-blue stream.

Here was a pathway, smooth like glass,
Where I and the wandering wind might pass

To the far-off places, drifted deep,
Where Winter's retinue rests in sleep.

I followed the lure, I fled like a bird,
Till the startled hollows awoke and heard

A spinning whisper, a sibilant twang,
As the stroke of the steel on the tense ice rang;

And the wandering wind was left behind
As faster, faster I followed my mind;

Till the blood sang high in my eager brain,
And the joy of my flight was almost pain.

Then I stayed the rush of my eager speed
And silently went as a drifting seed,--

Slowly, furtively, till my eyes
Grew big with the awe of dim surmise,

And the hair of my neck began to creep
At hearing the wilderness talk in sleep.

Shapes in the fir-gloom drifted near.
In the deep of my heart I heard my fear.

And turned and fled, like a soul pursued,
From the white, inviolate solitude.

-Charels G.D. Roberts