Soon, Winter will seal decay
beneath snowy banks
and we’ll plant ourselves
hearth side, aiming for fortitude
I shall middle myself amid
books and paints, soldier
through the desolation,
mourn for Summer’s loss.
(Image my own)
Soon, Winter will seal decay
beneath snowy banks
and we’ll plant ourselves
hearth side, aiming for fortitude
I shall middle myself amid
books and paints, soldier
through the desolation,
mourn for Summer’s loss.
(Image my own)
Moody, these December skies
brooding chill interrupted
by sun’s sudden emergence
To hibernate, or brace
the wind; stiffen protectively
or inhale invigoration
Caution guides my steps
intimate with wintry passages
acknowledging that I am December…
(Image my own)
Cast my shadow over white banks
assert presence: proud, defiant
Will find beauty in deserted places
and colour in the monochrome
Haunted by a Winter state of mind
resolved to stretch despite chill.
(Image my creation)
Robin is absent
Winter’s silence
inviting retreat
Children embrace
snow-filled adventures
while I evade spills
Window watching
fluctuations, waiting
for the harbinger’s return.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
To the west, a patch of electric blue
while Eastern clouds tumble grey
With each glance, sky language
alters, as if heaven re-examines
mood – intermittently snows
then explodes in flash of vermillion.
(Image my own)
Rain has returned
Winter’s fickle nature
overturning hope
I cower beneath
bedsheets, body
on fire – await
an impulse greater
than this pain –
creativity the antidote.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.
Winter donned
her finest lace
today,
shimmered beneath
peacock blues
Despite a sullen
arousal, the dull
thud of worry
hovering
appreciation
lightened the mood
(For Eugi’s Weekly Challenge: Winter. Photo my own.)
Robin’s melody bait
for this weary soul –
I hear promise
but nature is fickle
Winter renews onslaught
mocks any hope –
Solution to melancholy
once again delayed.
(Image from personal collection)
Odd, this gift of solitude. Perched canal side, I affirm my connection to the earth, and offer thanks. Late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way, lighting up the mirror-still water. Vibrant reflections.
Two winters ago, I fought to breathe as temperatures fell below zero. Impassible walkways trapped me indoors. Depression fought for possession. Hope struggles in imposed isolation.
“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now –
how just when it feels as if one sentence has been handed down, sealed, an opening appears. I am fortunate, savour the moment.
Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –
Winter’s solitude.
(Rapture first appeared here February 2019. I offer an edited version here.
Midnight
and moon casts an eerie light
shimmers of white-kissed fields
Headlights off,
I pause to contemplate the glow
endless skies here beyond city limits.
A herd of deer graze
ignore the hum of idling motor
celebrate the lunar flood.
What drove me here,
I cannot say; perhaps clouds
relentless in February skies.
Or maybe it was another pull,
a knowing, a grace, calling me
to open spaces – an offering
Surreal this suspended moment
stars dispersing sombre greys
tides of emotion releasing
I am transported,
uplifted, encouraged –
Heaven’s stellar promise.
(Inspired by a midnight ride and Eugi’s Causerie prompt of the week: stellar. Image from personal collection.)