It was the spinning in the ice that woke me at 3am. The closest moon i've ever seen. I ran to it, tried to hold it. The cold seeped into my shoulders and the light into the scent of the cold. And it was my breath and my blanket. It was the essesnce I dream so vividly of. And fleeting - in the cold snow - reflecting back the light much brighter for just that setting slide i lifted my face, eyes closed. Moon pond of the soul.