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.