the wind on my face

I'll savor those feelings in the world I identify with the most as the ones I dreamed away by the interest in feeling the things I heard and wanted to know the visions that I felt should be my own. I stood in the snow last night like the world was darker and more bright than I had ever felt it was with wet freezing water fleeing the sky into the depths of my face, my beard taking on the moisture like a warm place to spend the rest of the night was all it needed. I'll never be able to know what that would have felt like a year ago, I'll never remember the connection between what that moment in time was like in its correlate moment in the passage of the earth around the sun. It was a singular moment given a feeling turning in my head like a new way to think of the cold sensation I wanted to avoid in the warmth of my electronic lights. I'll listen to that feeling like a warm memory of the sun on my neck in the summer, like the rain on my head in the middle of the day, it won't matter as much some other day I'll know, it won't give me the same trouble with decision in my later years, I may think I know it, I may imagine the fading memory as a person aged by the nights I spent in head contemplating the ways I could take a new approach to where I was and how I became another person, but I think all I know today is I loved the snow on my face when I was young.