Winter
So, what does Nature
and Her Winter suggest?
that death is but a sleep
before a refreshing showery
sunny new awakening
that each resting kernel of being
is a blossom again to come forth
perennials of form with lofting
scents and beguiling evolving
textures
no soil can ever fully contain
nor rising smoke of briers
be anything less than Freedom
Breaths released
seeking dawns of experience
souls en-route to still ampler bliss
having been de-shelled
freed from stifling encumbering filters
I think Winter as much the good messenger
as it is the Grim Reaper
I think Winter as much the cold and still
as it is the ceaseless heart of birthing
warmth
flakes of color never straying too far
from their green leafy patterns
we travel inherent veins sensing our
own blood pulsing there-in and out
blushing and unfolding fond ripeness
every flower brought forth
a new universe
to freshly sniff and dream
every bee and speck of pollen
an extender-finger pointing toward
an even greater God
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