A Winter into Spring Poem
Poem © 2023 by Joyce Mason
I am waiting for Godot . . .
slurping the bottom of an iced drink from last summer
through a flattened straw,
patience drowning in an empty cup,
hoping to coax Spring to show herself,
even if only out of pity.
I am losing my faith in her.
I am nearly convinced she’ll never come,
that winter will never die, at least not by natural causes.
So much in one season!
Sickness, depression, grief
Isolation, loneliness, cold …
wondering if I might be dying.
sleeping so much, as if practicing—
my story for too many winters.
Yet as predictable as freckles on skin,
one day the dark breaks open and the Vitamin D Orb
is back pulsing heat and hope.
Life courses through my veins again.
Buds defy snow.
Newness becomes a religion.
I leave winter in its catacombs
To visit with candles
in the next Holy Season of Inner Renewal.
Join me.
Now go meet your New Self.
You’re going to just love you.
~~~
Photo Credit: Rebirth © motortion | Dreamstime.com
Want some background music for this post? Try George Winston's album, Winter into Spring.
