It is another rain day in December,
ten days from the winter solstice.
The beauty of snow and cold
like a passionate, unfaithful lover
who cannot be denied. The jeweled
word, “Hope” hangs from every
branch like icicles from a Christmas
tree. As if that word sustains the barren
beauty of the season, the dreams that
turn the eyes to the horizon each morning,
the sighs the heart and soul give to one
another like gifts. I think of winter as cold
and snow but am beginning to believe
its essence is its seduction of bareness
to a fullness that lies hidden. Outside,
inside . . . there is no difference.
-Byron Hoot
I love the image of "Hope" hanging as icicles from the frozen trees. Beautiful line.
ReplyDelete