While granules from past season’s flakes
thaw the impatience of my own caprice
amidst the restlessness of mid-winter,
clay gathers new fragrance of tangy moss.
Back at one, infant stars bequeath light
upon clouds resting on a drape of reverie,
the music of firstborn days stirring the wake
of garnet’s ardour with time’s new dial---
a little fiery perhaps---as opposed
to the acrid taste of a cycle’s old debris.
My January, you cuddle the balm of my fortitude
in your arms streaked with breathing hope,
to nurse the fertile seeds of renewal
with ovules so despicably beautiful
that moonlit fireworks glaze steadily
on night’s eyes, grounding my balance
with acceptance that trials and love
come from same flame: how this moment
must be relished in praise of fresh dowry…
Call me home instead and warm my skin
as I roam with you, my January,
fulfilling my quest’s return to a patient self...
the kind which blesses fire and ice.
Hello January Contest
by nette onclaud