Caught and held by naked wind, my soul sleeps in winter’s weathering woods beneath the hidden trees. The quiet beauty of fractured light mirrors a silent shadow of hope that awakens me. Slowly, my heart stretches these old icicle bones to linger in a kiss from the tranquil season deepening dreams.
Crossing the senses into undisturbed thoughts, the chilling bite of a wet day keeps its distance. i leave sanctuary impressions here; imprints of time and space that follows me everywhere.
Please, please do not disturb the winter’s dream that happens soft and slow. It seems winter is within me, strong silent artistry refined by the blanket that covers and keeps me warm.