The Winter of Our Contentment
Frozen drops of moisture
On a field of white
Land, sea, and sky proclaim
The news—
It is the season of separateness
When the cold strips us or our uniqueness
When the moon illuminates the land
Turning night into day
And Nature takes control
Of her domain.
It is a time for new relationships
We seek comfort in one another
As animals large and small
Cling in a montage
Of color and skills and
Quiet beauty.
Alone or together
We cannot hide the joy
Of our solemnity
United in a commonality of purpose
The will to survive cloaks us
And supersedes our
Separate needs
This wondrous bond we call
Winter
Is nothing less than a
Miracle
When hostilities and rancor
Are suspended
For a season
Time enough to mend
Our wounds
And await a day
Of renewal.
To everything
There is a season.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Anna
Otherwise, a magical poem about a time that was magical in our youth but we cringe at the thought of in our old age… With the occasional nostalgia about the way winter changes things.
Ron