When my soul lies silent for so long
I ask
is it dried up?
is it sleeping?

Has the winter's bitter cold  
frozen thoughts
and feelings?
icy winds scraping through
leaving a barren landscape
where nothing stirs
nothing grows
nothing survives

what can I do?
how do I waken the soul
of my Muse?
how do I warm and thaw
the ice floes
that imprison?
subdue the winds
that chill?
break through the glacial
permafrost?

No answers to my cries
my voice itself crackled
and hoarse.
The words,
like my shivering breath
rise into nothingness
and float into the blackness
of infinity.