Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Winter Marches On

Dreams have frozen,
Crystal in the morning
Birthtime rose,
A thorn for coronation

The unwelcome visitor creeps up on me each year like a thief. Slipping in unnoticed with his frigid touch. What confounds my mind is that he always catches me unawares, as if it were the first time. One day I come home from work and have a nice period to read and unwind outside on the porch. I pause every once and again to look out over my yard and breath deep the sunlight, the colors, and the warm, gentle breeze. Then it seems the very next day I arrive home in twilight. The once soft and formless trees, starkly mock at me with sharp and angular features in muted gray tones. The notion that the cold season has pushed out the warm, coupled with the knowledge that it will be a stretch before Aestas comes round to hold court on her emerald throne, leaves me melancholy. The sweet, flowing sap of life suddenly ceases to course through my veins. My attitude turns sour in direct proportion to the available light. Windows that used to reveal a scenic vista late into the evening, now display only harsh and glossy black holes that no fabric can mask. An unstoppable force that can be survived only through holing up into a sort of hibernation ... and the winter marches on.