Barren branches reach toward the steel-gray sky,
the air whistles through them as they sway;
Touching each other with a crackling sound,
as moaning calls of winter birds obey.

With each move their tender limbs try,
to hold themselves up with honor;
Yet as gusts snap twigs to solid ground,
this scene appears to us in horror.

Why now is Nature so bold and brave,
while January's resting and nesting starts ?
Its darkness looms with grave concerns,
for every lonesome and solitary heart.

And the whirling frost will paint its pictures,
along the windowsills each night;
The once fiery hearth seems weary and weak,
as the numbing cold begins to bite.

It was quite different when we lived down South,
which seems like years ago;
But now we stumble over icy hills,
and plow through fields of snow.

While the holidays pass with mirth and cheer,
our souls become unsettled;
Knowing that God has future plans,
that would surely test our mettle.

The strong survive the wicked winds,
the remaining folks just fade away;
Yet when we hold each others' hands,
our misery blows far astray.

Remember the elders on the farm,
telling stories of a reckless season;
Their wit and wisdom brightened our world,
for them--life's challenges had their reasons.

Huddled together in woolen shawls,
with my loving family close at hand;
I pray to the Lord that we all survive,
this bleak and brittle land.

---of love, and fireside romance,
speak to me of all the things we share,
of passing time's urgency to care;
speak to me of sighs, of kisses, and touches
sweet.

Speak to me of forever love, of the way
we go forward from year to year--
And of all the laughs and tears
shed, as our hearts grow in harmony.

Speak to me of the yesterdays,
and all that has led us here--
to eternal bliss--
All we needed was one kiss,
and somehow the angels sang
with delight---that night,
you spoke of our everlasting bond.

Speak to me---how fortunate are we !
precious gifts have set our hearts with glee.
We've carved our initials into that maple tree--
to last for all eternity--never forget to speak to me.

When the stars grow cold and fade away,
the earth becomes a haven;
For the sunbursts of a winter sky,
which warm us from our burdens.

Despite the sweetness of holiday cheer,
the only things we've left to see;
Are the snowy mountain tops ahead,
resplendent in their alabaster sea.

But with the rising of the morning sun,
its glowing face upon us all;
We huddle together and watch the gleam,
as it beckons us through windswept squalls.

So if the day can be revived,
with such brightness shining near;
The frosty stars will take a hint,
soon recovering on a night so clear.

And seeing the sparkle over the hills,
we pray for cherished evenings;
Of love and light within our sight,
with holy songs from angels' healing.

I can hear it in my heart,
a soulless sound predicting sadness--
Yet with all the worldly treasures,
surrounding me in gladness.

Perhaps the whistling will stop,
my mind and ears beseech thee--
To open up your raging heart,
to a place where I can simply BE.

I never heard this line before,
"forever we will fly away"--
But your voice haunts my spirit,
telling me I shouldn't stay.

The last song, and the best song,
should quench the hunger of goodbyes--
Although we once were intertwined,
the chants are carried on our sighs.

The season is merry and bright,
we watch on a silent night;
As children wait for treasures,
they'll cherish heartily forever.

As Santa rides his sleigh,
from a million miles away,
He's happy to be the one,
to deliver such Christmas fun.

While snow falls like confetti,
parents everywhere are ready;
For children's early rising,
with their laughter NOT surprising.

Hot cocoa made by mother,
sharing goodies like no other;
And lying underneath the tree,
Santa's gifts bring so much glee.

Lost forever in a trance,
of love that seems to dance;
The spirit of Christ is here,
we celebrate from year to year !

A quagmire--inside a burst of ideas,
she wrestles with the theme ;
Not to worry---the words will come,
as if floating through her head---in a dream.

Wondering--and seeking at the same time,
colors mixed in awesome glow;
Igniting passion within her world,
but still, the words have nowhere to go.

Cozy lamplight shines beside,
an antique desk from mother;
Oh, how to make her proud,
in sprawling portraits of each other.

Never resting--a futile attempt to grow,
while mindful moments within her soul,
Wear out--looking for a space to hide,
losing all her pride--but wait, her goal,
attained by happenstance, a mere gliding
of the pen across the page--a restless tale decides
to form--no more hiding...
  
as she writes these inspiring words:
"family is everything."
The ghosts of the past now rest,
for she's opened her heart at last.

All across the yard leaves fly,
golden yet limp with rain;
A show of late-autumn's power,
as December stakes its claim.

Onyx clouds bundle together,
filled with frost and snow;
About to pass throughout the sky,
in painted streaks of indigo.

Grasses lay, no longer green,
yellowed and brown with time;
This season has its mellow moods,
as cardinals' songs wistfully rhyme.

Yet early December, I'll always remember,
the blossoming of a childlike prayer;
To cherish the joys of the holidays,
with blessings for peace everywhere.