In The Dead Of Winter Aliveness To Life Is Found

Breezes flaunt their sweet caressing on limbs giving them to dance as never before
Such the ecstasy of the intercourse of winds intertwining within the bare lofty branches
Branches swaying so violently making a rapturous chorus in the great outdoors
While the buds sheltered and cocooned feel within the deepening arousal of life surging

Days pass as in a fog in a multitude of shades of grey
From a misty soft grey with snow showers giving the illusion of white out
As the bitter cold of the steel grey of midnight gives beckoning call
Clouds ever present giving haze to moon and overcastting the sun that seeks to shine

Through the passing hours the seasons reluctantly give way to change
Desire hangs in the air... just to break forth from prison walls of winter's solitude
Yet… Life is so vibrant, so exhilarating, in the midst of winter's blanket that seeks to shroud
Such is the contradiction of the Winter season

Today is so vastly differing...
For as so great the need to feel
The touch of full bodied charging forth of the breezes
Yet to be thusly on this day...
Would disaster bring to the limbs
For in the night as I lay resting
I heard the icy storm as it arrived
Blasting the side of the home
Making the windows to chatter
Coating bare branches with ice
Confining and locking them in place...
So much the branches desire to break free
Of the ice that holds them shackled and bound
Right now if gusty breezes were to blow
Yes, the ice would crackle and break...
And so too the limbs of the branches extended out
How they long to be free to sway joyously
To dance once again in the rhythm of the aire's currents

..for just a touch, a gentle touch...of a ray of the warmth of the Sun cold hard ice to melt as the touch comes into fruitation comes the breezes. Wild winds blow and branches dance with moisture laden droplets now as a new morning thickened dew upon them, unshackled and in a wholeness..a completeness

Fierce is the raging storm that right now is blowing in from far distant shore
The swirling motion ever constant as snow tumbles from the skye
Yesterdays' ice coating the branches so thick giving them a cold glossy shimmer
Dripped constantly through long the night as temperatures started to rise giving warmth
The more it is that SpringTime seeks to arrive bringing to the branches a petticoat of lacy pink blossoms
The more it is that WinterSeason is fighting to hang on, not desiring to relinquish it's solitary staunchness
Meanwhile the bulbs of tulips stay hidden, sheltered 'neath the soil…just waiting, ever waiting…

...and to think, Alreadied this year the tulips have now bloomed...