Winter is not my favorite season.
In a land of four seasons,
Winter overstays her welcome.
She messes with my neat freak,
Tracking slush and dragging grit
Across the doorstep, up the stairs.
She brings gray and gloomy skies
With too much snow, dumping her anger
From the clouds like so much misery.
Sister Sun arrives late
And leaves much too early and
In between, offers lukewarm embrace.
But winter and I have made friends,
For all of the reasons that defy friendships
That develop in spite of our differences.
I’ve learned to accept her moodiness
And to ignore her bad behavior because
On her good days she is simply stellar.
With glorious blue skies and
Sunshine flooding every surface;
I try not to squint, afraid I’ll miss something!
Her atmosphere is rarified, so clear
And crisp that my lungs catch
in the effort of exchange.
Everywhere, a frosty layer etched
With exquisite patterns, some will
Make me catch my breath again.
I am reminded of the gift in each breath,
Exhaling in the language of God.
And I might glimpse forever, it seems.
I can be glad for winter’s friendship;
Thankful for this vantage point. I gain
Fresh perspective in a season of clarity.