WINTER WINGS

The cold wings of winter
flap in the wind,
whisking leaves
in upward spirals,
stripping trees
to reveal bare bones.
The crisp air cuts through fog.
There is aching for the summer gone,
for resplendent autumn's
colorful song
and the vague memory
of hesitant spring.
We waken in darkness,
the challenge to believe
that life continues underground
where we can't see.
Cold mornings bring
crunching underfoot,
a shattering of frozen surface...
to trust the suns return,
we must let go,
allow the dying of the year
to lie beneath her blanket of snow,
to sleep
and in the sleeping state
to dream
the sun's return,
renew a trust in life
that begins
in mystery.