One day I turned to ice. The whole world got colder in the time it takes to answer a phone call. He had my son. Five states away. My beautiful, precious, six year old boy. I was a soldier then, and make no mistake, "You're a soldier first, and a mother, second." Layers of ice formed, encasing me.
twigs encased in ice
reflect dancing moon light ~
a lone soldier cries
Christmas in Alabama always shines with ice. I am not God, I shouldn't have to give my only begotten son. Christmas Eve night was stunningly beautiful. Canopied by a brilliant midnight blue sky, stars sparkling like tiny diamonds. I poured out my heart to God, broken and alone in an empty schoolyard. I swung, and I swung, and I swung. I offered my gift of song to the Holy Child, as Christmas dawned upon the horizon. But morning found me broken, army boots on ice.