I am aware, logically,
That when Winter comes and all things die,
The numb cold of snow will eventually clear
And the flowers will bloom
And my plum tree will bud and provide fruit.
Spring will warm all of creation once more,
Rain will wake my skin.
But today all is frozen,
Iced over and silent with​ no growth to be found,
And logic aside,
This feels
Eternal.
I cannot feel the sun that does not warm my skin.
I cannot taste the rain that does not touch my lips
And the flowers that have not yet regrown
Show no signs of life, here.