Frigid
Frigid
Frigid…
I see my breath
in the framework of the night—
it shatters like a thousand
tiny pieces of icicles in mid-air.
The cold
creates pools which form
in the very corners of my eyes…
they slip down
freezing before they spill from
my chin.
The blustering wind
pierces my cheeks
like a sewing needle
weaving its way through
a seamless garment.
Why am I out here?
To listen~~~but to what?
What is there to listen to?
A tree cracks…
a lonely leaf scurries across
the icy terrain.
I’m frozen—
my nostrils await
another breath
before ‘sealing’ closed barely re-opening.
I listen…
and hear nothing.
The silence—it’s intoxicating.
I drink it in
one shot after another
and suddenly ‘inside’
my being I’m warm.
I’m listening to the chill of
nothingness—
and in this moment
it is as a
burning flame.
Tis a fiery ode to winter! Enough to reconsider my opinion of this season that does not encourage flowers. 🙂
…and yet so much happening beneath the Earth’s crust!