One With Winter
Winter has never been a season I have enjoyed, at least not in adulthood, and at some points in my life I have even suffered from S.A.D., having gone to work in the dark and come home in the dark.
Now that I can work on my own schedule, I see more of the limited daylight hours that this seasons offers, and often its majesty and brutal beauty give rise to nature and/or spiritual poetry. Such poems spring from a deep conviction that I have no right whatsoever to dislike any aspect of Sacred Creation, all of which has its purpose in the scheme of things. Winter is a season of rest and renewal. Not do I have enough years left in my life to waste them disliking much of anything, let alone anything over which I have absolutely no control.
I am in the icy moments that winter offers. I am part of the Oneness that is this season’s sleet and snow:
Each Icy Instant
I cannot will nor wish away such wintry winds
as bite and blow and blast with smart and sting.
I cannot command that merciful melting March arrive
with gusting western gales that soften filthy snow
and make it run in rivulets on roads and routes.
I cannot demand dark days to faster fly, nor can I
insist that beaming Brother Sun cut short his
crooked winding walk. But I can hold each icy instant
in my summer soul and breathe its sacred essence,
for in such season lies the rest from whence
resurgence springs. And soon enough sweet shoots
and sprouts will swiftly surge from rejuvenated soil.
copyright Carol Knepper
Without winter, how does one have an appreciation for spring?
Tags: inspiration, nature poetry, spiritual poems