Winter's Child
Cold river, on slopes of winter
You flow.
As circle is running
Through creases and smiles,
In seasons festive,
Or cloudy days
Cold river, windy and brave
You drop.
Innocent claims,
Visions white
I am watching the snow falling
Pent in my prison,
Threatened by lies
I am choosing the wrong
season
To lean on my soul.
Icy river, on this valley
Where change appears and
revolves,
Float me down with you,
Until my breathless need to
seize the air
Becomes a wish.
White are the hands,
With lines dim,
To hold the sky's turning.
These coins I clentch,
Are my last
To pay my adamant price,
To be waken
And be risen
In this brumous nest.
Me, the winter's child.
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