~

frost and snow,
hail and ice...
expressions of winter's
tantalizing sights;
displays that mesmerize
with sparkling magic,
and inexplicably
its sullen moods,
its stormy, icy grip.
like a garden’s blooms
remind us of our brevity,
the cruelty of this life;
but also whispers softly
of graces found within
life's wintery courtship,
a beauty easily overlooked
or altogether missed,
awaiting springtime thaws
while tightly held within
winter’s frosty mix.
for it is here
that winter whispers
e’er so quietly,
”i’m less like death
than you imagined,
watch closely as
i draw my knife;
and with razor edge unfurl
the frosty breath i breathe
o’er flower’s sleepy seed,
firm within my grasp
i freeze her fast asleep,
her beauty held within my arms
until the sun, my brother
can reach her with his warmth,
to stir her from
her restful slumber,
and awaken her
to spring to life.”

~

*postscript. **

you know how it goes, you read a poem that absolutely speaks to you, so much so that it stirs a moment of creative writing out of which flows a series of lines; words for which you know you really cannot claim true authorship.  this then is the inspired result of reading my friend Harlon Rivers' “that which often whispers”.  i invite you to read it here -
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1016263/that-which-often-whispers/


"winter whispers"...
intended to speak of
the paradoxical,
the irony of winter,
just one of nature’s many mirrors...
of life.