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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Soft Winter Wind (a poem)

You called me over the airwaves
I had nothing to reply
Golden light bathed my face
Amid soft winter wind like
Time frozen in the seasonal cycle

I heard your sweet voice call,
But I could not answer
I needed my solitude

Don’t we all need time alone
To regenerate the parts of ourselves
Crowded out by madness?

(Photo by Spurwing Agency on Unsplash)

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)