The white fox pads through crisp virgin snow
Not really searching, just wandering
Unconcerned that it will not happen across
The meaning of life and perhaps a stranded seal pup
The fox had faced its fears and survived
Surpassed expectations, though not his own
He knew, somehow, that fear was the illusion
And that light and love would see him safe
Aloof, some called him, or apathetic, but harsh they were
For the fox was as one with the snow on the ground
And the wind and the stars were his friends
So he wandered on regardless, as the ice began to melt.
