a painful bliss

The buzz of the needle
The pain it signifies
But the beauty it beholds
With the finished product

Hours under the gun followed by
The solitude and bliss of making tracks on the skis

Stoked for the possibilities
Once the real snow accumulates
The out and backs are nice
But you are almost certain to see others
Sometimes it's just about me
The solitude, the quiet of the
World and the mind
Doesn't get much better than this

To the woods, I go
peace