The Litany of Cold

The Litany of Cold

The cold draws near like a herd of nameless angels,
heavy leaves fall over the village, old blood of another world,
the women pull their kerchiefs tight across their temples like a wound,
the sky weeps in fine, steady drops, soaking our thin clothes,
inside it's warm and golden; out here, only cold and smoke,
we knock on the frosted windows, calling out faceless names.

Take us into your arms, mothers of clay and candlelight,
we know how to say "mama" and clap out the rhythm of the world,
give us a red ribbon to tie around our foreheads,
we'll dress ourselves in restless colors, in sounds and in pollen,
you have no idea how cold it is inside our glass bones,
take us in under your arms — our fingers have turned to ice.

We came on foot, eyes closed, following a blind horse,
an old law drove us on, one we felt deep inside our chests,
we dug corridors toward you with fingernails of smoke,
we pressed the wet earth to our mouths like a heavy kiss,
my loves, you don't know what hunger our bare footsteps carry,
we're closing in, in ranks — the only ones who never forgot you.

We are your children, lost in dreams of mercury,
we carry a small sun in our chests, cut from the flesh of night,
our blood runs in circles, like water inside a crystal clock,
ripe moon, heavy seeds of warm darkness fall from you,
we dance around your hearth, thirsty shadows made of jade,
the psalter of the cold sings forgotten litanies into our bones.

You can give birth to us again, it's still one road to the same threshold,
we keep rolling on like the forgetful wheels of a cart,
reapers, bury us beneath your warm threshold,
there where the cold sleeps and memory turns to clay,
we will be the seed that grows inside your silence made of light,
and in the spring to come, we will be cold and prayer once more.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Rodgers Avatar
September 16, 2026 at 6:49 AM
Hey Dan, reading your poem this morn, it feels less like reading a modern text and more like overhearing an ancient, ancestral incantation chanted in the dark. I really like how the desperate, instinctual drive touches on our fundamental human need to return to origin, warmth, and archetypal shelter whenever life strips away our comfort and leaves us exposed to the elements. Haunting, deeply crafted work, Dan. Blessings, Daniel
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace