Winter

Winter is cold and cruel and so 

Unbelievably beautiful. 

Snow and 

Sunlight,

Small delights

Sprinkled among the 

Storms and wind’s blows

When you are inside, you can see the outside and appreciate the warmth.

When outside, you look in and revel in the sky

And the hard dirt

And the wind on the back of your neck. 

When you’re inside, you look out and

Wonder how anyone could ever last out there.

No shelter from the elements,

Nothing to keep you grounded,

No one to hold you and 

Keep you so safe.

I know quite well how lovely it is

To sit by the fire, 

Blanketed and fulfilled

And wonder how awful it would be if you ever left.

I know just how much the flame lights a blaze

In your soul and 

In your heart

And how you feel alive.

No one in their right mind would ever want to go out into the cold, 

And yet I was forced out.

To think i loved it so, to be safe behind the windows

Of a glass house, 

Thinking that i was not under threat

Even as I saw countless others throw their stones. 

But before I knew it my fire was out 

And my blanket was wet and torn

I tried for a while to bring the fire back, but no matter how many times I found the spark again

The wind came along and blew it out. 

Gingerbread houses,

Hot chocolate,

Advent wreaths.

Three purple candles, one pink.

Now my candles are burnt out, 

Wax dripped and splattered and imbedded with ashes.

Ashes of my burnt fire, long gone out.

To sit in a room full of roaring fires 

And to look within and feel your dull hearth

Is the true feeling of winter. 

And even after weeks, months, years,

My hearth is still lonely and dim. 

I’ve shoveled the dead logs

And snuffed out any embers and

I resigned myself to my cold. 

I can see within others, in their glass houses,

Their fires burn because it is their only fuel left. 

Even the fires of those in broken houses, shattered windows, 

Rocks in hand,

Their fires burn.

Their candles are lit,

Their blankets dry, 

Their fires are merry.

I used to miss my fire so badly.

I still do.

I have found other ways to keep me warm,

I found stoves and matches, but none could truly 

Replace my hearth.

And all along, I could feel the cold creeping in, 

The cold that others could only keep at bay with their 

Candles and their

Blankets

 And their glass

And their stones. 

I found a few that could somehow even make due

With their stoves and their lighters and 

I envied them for their resilience

When truly i ought to have

Pitied them for their ignorance.

Because after weeks and months and years

I finally woke up and just walked

Out into the sun

Who needs fire

When there is the sun?