Winter’s Warped Blessing

I don’t apologize for needing winter. Her emotion is big like mine.
She teaches me this and how to thrive in hard places.
Harsh west wind stings my skin; the kiss of her tyranny.
Twenty day grey sky collapses me inward.
Powder. Sleet. Crust. More layers to sort through.
Acknowledge the immobile. Don’t try to push harder to get through.

Winter doesn’t have expectations. It won’t whine about the need for passion as summer does. Survival freezes intellect like a whiteout.
Impermeable darkness shows my crevices.
The deeper the snowpack gets, the slower I squeak out of the shadows to befriend my soul. Holing up is acceptable. Cracking is expansion.

Be dissatisfied with the cold if you must. I can’t hear you in the buffer of woods.
Make snow your enemy while flakes touch my cheeks like the butterflies of midwinter.
My heart holds on to the invitation to hibernate with companions.
Those who accompany me leave their prints in a drift.

The value of summer afternoons is only as splendid as wintertime’s dark.
Unyielding frozen lake melts, it’s springs amicable for swimming. Walk on water while I can.
Memorial Day sun grows sugar scented pink peonies. Icicles watered them; and they have thrived on this property for decades longer than I have been alive.

Dismiss spring and fall. They disappoint with mediocrity.
Obediently value my love of the long light of summer.
Cautious not to glorify the resilience that is winter’s suffering.
I am learned in the extremes of seasons.

P.S.
I thought twice about sharing this right now in deference to all of those who are suffering because of the unprecedented winter weather. But I began writing it over 2 weeks ago as we plummeted into a deep freeze. This piece has a new purpose - a prayer request for those who are ill prepared for winter. If you are like me and winter well, send them your strength and hope.

Peace, Megan ...