A Winter of Sleep
Like a standing-by tribe of leafless birch trees,
My solitude remains entrenched on this Idaho frozen land.
This alluring land of uncompromising sinuos snowed hills.
My bed to rest.
The unyielding beauty of big sapphire blue skies.
A solid promise for hope to come.
But I remain still.
Deep sleep sounds so nice.
Yes, in this land I hibernate in unseen caves of my own carved memories.
Yet, my faithful sun always shines.
A reminder of his eternal promise.
To daily rise.
To daily shine.
To daily warm.
Until then, my wintered solitude remains still.
Like birch trees waiting for the golden leaves to come,
I wait.
I’m not afraid.
I remain still.
Until then, deep sleep sounds do nice.
