While you'll definitely notice some similarities between this piece and The Daughter of Autumn, the actual inspiration for this poem is Robert E. Howard's The Frost Giant's Daughter. One of the shortest Conan the Barbarian stories, The Frost Giant's Daughter centers around the daughter of a god who uses her magic and beauty to lure warriors to her giant brothers, who then kill them for sport. She meets Conan and things don't go to plan.
I liked the idea of approaching that same notion from a more benevolent direction. It also gave me another excuse to write about the snow, which I actually really do enjoy for some reason. You'd think I would have had enough of winter with the temperature being below zero for half of January.
Aurora’s what I call you.
I can think of no better name,
For the mercy maid that saved me,
On the most foolish of all my days.
I gaze up every winter’s night,
At the dancing lights up in the sky,
And thank you for the life I’ve led;
Saved by the warmth found in your eyes.
I had strayed off of the beaten way,
Intent on proving myself bold.
I dreamt of wandering ancient paths;
Mind set on hordes of ancient gold.
But when fruitless journey came to end,
I could not find my way back home.
Aimless I wandered – absent friend,
Save for the steady fall of snow.
Dire inches piled higher,
While the howling wind chilled my bones.
I had no wood or spark for fire.
I was doomed to die cold and alone.
It was then I saw you – standing silent,
Amidst the sheets of falling white.
Wrapped in garb thin as gossamer,
Skin pale as winter’s ice.
I was frightened when first my eyes laid gaze,
For I knew you weren’t of mortal kin.
What soul could walk the land that way,
And not find winter’s frozen end?
Of the gods’ own blood you had to be,
And though I stood in fear,
There was no cruelty on your face,
When your footsteps drew you near.
I gazed upon your quiet visage,
Dumbstruck as you took my hand.
You led me through the blizzard’s wrath,
To the threshold of my home again.
You smiled as you let me go,
And though your skin’s touch was frozen cold.
I’ve cherished the memory of its grace,
Through all my days from young to old.
You could have left me for the wolves.
Left me to my fool’s demise – well earned.
Instead you showed me kindness,
Without any promise of return.
I’ve tried to do as much since then,
When e’er I could and can.
To help the foolish and the brave,
And live as a boon to my fellow man.
And when the winter’s chill arrives to visit me anew?
I never curse the quiet cold.
It’s where you found me,
And I met you.
