Hot coffee, foamy and bitter
Scalds my tongue but I drink anyway
The clouds are low around my mountains
Trees are orange and red and
Nearly barren
My cheeks are cold and pink
And my fingertips trace the frost that's
Gathered on my window
I feel like the earth is preparing
For the change that is winter
And I am ready
For the rest that will come with
The first real snow fall
And the healing that happens underneath
For the reawakening that will occur
When the frost thaws
And my heart can finally beat
Without that ache
That has plagued me for far too long
With a quiet sigh
And eyes half shut
I will allow this period of rest
And recovery
And soothe my weary heart in
The balm of forgiveness