winter winds upon this land
clawing me clamy hands
the recluse in me , stems the tides
of emotions cultivated deep inside

such sentiments had warmed my soul
of future days and times of old
shall I scratch this itch, a thousand times more
or let sleeping dogs lie, never to be told

shall I stand poised on this joist
debating the reasons for choice
and hear that familiar voice
"how far is heaven" and the ultimate rejoice

no, i will let the winter winds claw at me
let it's darkess cold once again teach
that the recluse in me and all it brings
warm my soul, anticipating a new spring