Where is the bleakness that some discover
In waves of arctic cold, undulating
into my bones then retreating
like ocean waves, waking every cell,
lifting each hair in my nose, on my arm
to urgent attention?
Icy crystals form, growing, living for moments
Bely the death knoll of winter,
Blanketing blades and stalks in the garden
Spreading over the dark soil before my feet
A welcome call to open my eyes
And truly see.
Dark silhouettes of hearty oaks and maples
Spread strong over a canvas of subtlest pink
Engage my eyes in a dance
A song of the night on my lips as morning dawns
A sole sunbeam changes doubt
To ecstatic revelry.
Birdsong sharp and clear as ever pierces
The subtlety, the art of new day
Transforms into joyous outburst;
Berry bush in jubilance opens with red
Rich umber soil of man’s birth
Teems with hidden life.
Fragrant curls of woodsmoke, a hickory tree in
its second life, blazing heat and light for man.
Softly falling snowflakes muffle sound,
A new symphony as glistening art-crystals
Drift down, tempting the tongue
For just one taste.
Does not all the world gasp as the first frigid breath
of December burns deep in the lungs?
Something of creation must break so we
May encounter life, an annual eucharist;
If then a death comes in winter, let us rejoice
In the life it bears.
Laurie Soileau Schlisner 2014