Nix liquefactum est,
Venit usque in gramina.
Capulus et sugar,
Tu, me, et ver.

There is no schism,
no gulf between the winter, fall, and spring
there is a reason for every season,
each takes the best
then adds to what the others bring

Our hearts carry words, and words carry meaning,
Behind every meaning, there’s a feeling,
Sometimes they heal, sometimes they wound,
Sometimes they’re spoken, sometimes buried.
Yet no matter where they linger or hide,
They shape, they matter, they cannot be denied.

Feelings create words,
Words are said, but sometimes they’re kept,
Sometimes they bring relief, sometimes they bring regret instead,
But what can we do once they’re out?

Words and feelings are always entwined,
Both can soothe, both can sting in kind.
It’s not the words alone that decide their weight,
But the tone, the moment, the meaning we create.

So how do you know what they made you feel?
Look to your heart’s quiet response – there lies what’s real.

Divided I am on this December night
Into many a part of unequal spirit.
All sneak sinuous, serpentine, and surreal,  
To hide under my warm winter blanket,
There to unfurl slowly, coil by coil,
for whatever the new year may yield.