Frosted Flowers (a poem)

Cold, frosted flowers
Withered and half-dead
Held in burning hands
Let this disease spread
Under cloudless skies
Mornings are so bright
Winter always lies
I’m preparing for tonight
When my eyes open at last
And see my lover’s face
Through the creaky windows
Comes the chilly draft
She’s held in my embrace
Frosted flowers, burning
In my withered hands
Minutes like hours
In the balance
My winter life stands

(Photo by Ankhesenamun on Unsplash)

Red Lights Glow (a poem)

Transit of my soul
From numbing place to place
Dark nights, howling winds
Rattling of a rib-cage window
Naked moon glares above
Skeletal grind and pain
A refrain from dream-cities
Nestled inside the house
Winter chill, freeze-agony
Red lights glow from
Street-corner temples
Listen to the wind
It never lies

(Photo by Brianna Santellan on Unsplash)

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)