Crushing the tops of mountains with my hands

Yesterday I lifted my frozen hands into the air to hail the coming of a new season.   My eyes have turned a lighter shade of blue, my hair white.   

The monolith erected as a symbol to breathe life into dead seas 

My ears tune out the constant drone of the wind.  My heart warms and my joints are no longer filled with shards of glass.   As the earth shifts its axis toward my pale face, I manage a smile through cracked lips and a wind burned face.