hungry branches
stripped of leaves
reach their fingers
to the empty gray skies
along the silent roadways of winter,
there is a barren beauty
in their snow-covered limbs,
the reassurance they provide:
there are still four seasons -
we haven't yet
wiped them from the Earth -
it is stark
it is beautiful
there is peace
it is home
Tag: seasons
Old Bones
spring's glistening drops of dew
have become a harsh frost
settling deep within the bones;
the sun is slower to warm
though I find myself
in less of a hurry
to move through my day,
content now to linger
over a fleeting minute,
absorbing more
of all that surrounds;
the sharper the cold
the more welcome
the warmth
Cold
a dusting of frost coats the world as a cold sun takes its place in the sky; so many balk at the bitterness of the cold; why not embrace its crispness - the clarity it provides - the heavy heat of summer is a comfort, but it is thick with humidity that clouds the mind; the cold bites awakening the mind to all that is and all that can be; embrace this vision