WARMTH

Gazing out the window towards a pristine tundra of bleached terrain,

with the freezing temperatures creating their icy vines upon the glass,

my insides shake from an hint of 'brrr'

that stings to the very marrow of my being.

 

But in the moment of inhaling Nature's wintry artistry

from the safe, seclusion of my hearth in toasty comfort,

my mind can't escape visions about menacing glacier dwarfs

bringing forth the ice cube taste of an artic blast,

making my aching bones feel like a snowman's limbs.

 

Still, I know there is always the flame that dances in my head

as I cling to memories of summer's sizzling hope,

before lighting the traditional candles of seasonal, festive rant

to keep smoldering the embers of magic and passion.

 

While I attempt to cushion myself from the frigid gnomes

my brain imagines lurking in the drifts

using blankets, fire and a bubbling froth,

within I sense a subtle tongue of snowy dialogue

hinting at how real heat for the soul

can not be chilled by any frozen brush of January.

 

Its vitality is most alive in the textures of a brisk, frozen faire

where warmth simmers more acutely in our consciousness,

giving life a greater story, despite the alabaster coldness,

till we breathe with the essence of the sun,

no matter the raging blizzard

outside or in.