A snowman stood tall in the yard,
His scarf and his hat were both starred,
The children would play,
On that cold, festive day,
As Christmas arrived unbarred

The carolers sang with delight,
Their voices rang out through the night,
With joy in the air,
And warmth everywhere,
It was truly a magical sight.

The trees sparkled under the glow,
The world wrapped in winter’s soft snow,
The kids ran and cheered,
The season appeared,
And the fire in the hearth burned low.

But the sun rose more sharply each day,
The cold slowly started to sway,
He felt in his frame,
A loss he could name,
As the chill slipped away with the gray.

He knew his time was nearly through,
As the world changed from white to blue,
With a soft, final sigh,
He whispered, “Goodbye,”
And accepted the warm winds that grew.

Please, call me to the place where my tomorrow was,
Where all my fears and failures were no where,
Where I laughed much and danced a whole lot,
Where we both were together, you and me, just everywhere!

Please call me to the place where snowfalls
Entirely reign in winter, and frost is.
Where rains and leaf-falls are in autumn fully
And wrap with spicy odour all as coverlid.

Please Call me to the place where I was loved!
And where I loved wholeheartedly, without “May not!” at all!
Please call me to the place where I was free!
I beg you, call me to my place! It's not for all

I see you.
Even through your dark nights and stormy skies.
I see you with your chilly breeze and lack of leaves.

I feel safe in your cold embrace.

You’ve always been my favourite. Not needing to shine bright or be loud. You let simplicity take the lead.

You are truly the beginning and the end. Laying bare for all to see.

I'm coming back as a tree
I could leave now
For all I care

The tree is an Ash
Sturdily bends in
In the sharpest winter

Breezes blows the boughs
The waves from the Pacific Ocean
Are jealous of her cadence

I'll take my leave now
I've seen all I need to
When you hear the wind look up

I've returned
Rooted, alive, without a care
Let the cages of birds freely fly to me.

Long shadows sandwiched between a biting breeze and a not quite wet damp black tarmac.

The end of colour intense time, echoing summer and spring's past,
pulling eyes to the grey mute hues of sky and tree.
A subdued stating of its intent to last.

Year-end approaches, celebration looms, competing the grey with a triumph that brings change towards gentler tones.
And a lightness,
seemingly lost in the yearly cycle.

The scent of spring once hidden beneath the diminishing decay of autumn and winter's contribution brings a bright hope forecasting a weathered change.

The beat of the yearly cycle quickens adding strength and tempo to my own hearts quickening with a prospect of longer days.

The shortest day throughout the year
Should leave us with but little cheer
Yet as the day turns into night
A hope lies with its dimming light

A hope unbroke through eons past
Tho doubt it often would amass
In hearts and spirits of long last
Ancestors who witnessed it's glow

For they, who didn't truly know
The secrets of the star that hides
That, as the light that shines in thee
The sun lives on, eternally

No longer will the Gods arise
For what's eternal never dies
We leave behind all fear and fright
In that long, cold, dark winter's night

And all that's left for use to do
Is wait for day, to break on through
And turn our faces to the sun
Knowing one day we'll all be one

Over the snowy mountain peaks
A star is gliding through space
As I’m strolling, embracing the breeze
On Saint Anne’s frozen lake.

Icicles have crept up on the trees
All the living have run away
Sorrow lingers in the silent eve’
Dimming prayers at Winter’s gate.

The cold flurry of air penetrates the bone
Reeds wince with the chill.
A flock of birds pass by like ghosts,
their shapes trembling in fear.

Oscillating wings carve the way
as they fade away in the sky,
a new thought is born I can’t shake:
This is my home. I’ve arrived.