A Cold Winter Sky

Life can be cold
and some days it can be hard
all the comfort and warmth you know
and I mean all
will just up and go.
The familiar landscape
green, grass, flowers of fall
there will be nothing left
just long naked trees
staring at the sky
the grass so burnt
slapped around by rain
puddles and puddles of miserable water
standing adamant there…

At the core of a harsh winter
is a chill that runs so deep
it freezes the soles
like a dead man’s body
retains no heat
devoid of life
of will or willingness.
Under the heaving clouds
carrying the incessant rain to birth
many a cold hearts search for warmth
for kindness
in the eyes of a dear one
a spark of merriment
a chance at deep
or even shallow affection
hoping something will work.

And so we look to the sky
to the mountains we look
to the divine we bend
seeking nothing in particular
maybe a hand on the shoulder
a pat on the head
perhaps when that warmth
is rekindled
the bonfire of hope
will soothe the bleak
and the desolate.

All that cowering in gloom
in little known corners
dressed in pretensions
scarfed in doubt
gloved in strange feelings
a little troubled
just a tad bit tortured
will meet a satisfactory end
when the sun comes out
and bursts into a trillion fragments
oh such light will it scatter everywhere
all things dead and alive
bathed in that brilliant light.

Yes, it is what the heart really craves
an inner fire to ride
the storms
to put up a fight for that peace
for that joy of simply being
too easily the mind
lays down its swords…
Well, when the sun is out
it matters not
whether the sky is clear
or shaded like Granma’s hair
the God-rays will find a way
tear past the clouds
and brighten every damn corner
of that cold winter day.