musings

a somber song

the cold caresses my face

it is a dear familiarity

comforting yet sharp

I eagerly embrace this season

the cold months of winter wrap this tired heart up at just the right time

letting my soul rest in the nutrients of my roots

In winter, I relax into exactly who I was made to be without striving to be more or less.

I blend into the lanscape of barenness, but am very much alive

I am like a tree

one who has lost it’s leaves to the cold

and is confident of their return

but fully comfortable with my empty branches

no blooms decorate me now

just a subtle grace found in the stillness of my being

a somber song.

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