“That is one good thing about this world … there are always sure to be more springs.” – L.M. Montgomery
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Tag: the seasons
Winter is a Time for Healing (a poem)
Winter is a time for healing.
Cold, gray mornings and a pallid moon hangs in the sky.
Bundled up to protect my heart.
My heart is a fireplace, radiating from the center of my chest.
My lover comes close, we warm ourselves.
Winter is a time for healing.
Birds migrate south, leaving us to think of what we’ve done and how we can make the world a better place.
We take inventory of our souls.
Nature retreats, but it’s only regenerating.
Without winter, there’s no spring or summer.
We snuggle into the season with our lovers, and I clasp my rosary as I pray to the God I want so desperately to believe in.
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Daily Quote: The Loneliness of Winter
“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn’t show.” – Andrew Wyeth
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Daily Quote: The Healing Power of Nature
“There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature—the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” – Rachel Carson
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Daily Quote: An Ode to Spring
“Science has never drummed up quite as effective a tranquilizing agent as a sunny spring day.” – W. Earl Hall
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New Hope (a 6-word story)
Waiting for Spring (a haiku)
Spring is almost here
snow melts and a warmer sun
beckons brighter days
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Gray Snow (a haiku)
Snow-piles freeze in winter,
turning gray like big storm clouds
that threaten bad weather.
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Silence of Winter (a poem)
the silence of winter is not
such a terrible thing –
graying snowbanks by roadsides
reduced to slush & a thick sky
cold & like the finest cotton,
naked trees, dying leaves
hanging for dear life
reminding me of sledding down
icy hills, red plastic breaking
leaving shards to be buried below
like black bears snuggled in
warm caves
(Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash)
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Autumn Days (a poem)
red & gold leaves, crisp air tell me
autumn is here – they crunch under my feet
smoky smell of a firepit wafts through
the neighborhood, pumpkins on porches,
hot coffee in cold hands – walking in
golden sunlight, slight shiver when
the north wind blows, a football is thrown
high in the air – jump! snatch it!
snatch onto autumn days
they don’t last long
(Photo by Dennis Buchner on Unsplash)
