Bleakness rises beyond the horizon, nothing left but a shell
a former self in a moment of glory, ego’s tucked away on top shelves
liquor bars, libations spirit of the season, lavender skies hid
at dusk, geese form and then fly, into a void until Springtime
Bare is the bark, bare is soul, bare is the night as the winter takes hold
Hues of blue, a deeper shade than pale, memories like flash bombs dancing through some heads.
Bitter is the cold and brittle is the bone that still stands, even shaking, and more so alone.
It is a season of giving, a season of grace. A season of moments, salvation and saving face,
Presents wrapped in stolen shrouds, fires in hearths and travel plans.
Once but a year it comes and it goes for some its a reminder of stories left untold, but if you are the courage and the goodwill
It can be a different time for some each and every year. It can be a moment to share a moment to shine. A new memory for keeps to recall for another time.
Foreshadowing the horizon and what’s still to come, ghosts of past propriety and things left undone. Blind eyes turning, ears suddenly deaf, to the screams of torment and the practicing of theft.
Of life of dreams of all that seems too much to ask, a greater task, what are we doing as others fail, humanity and frailty, humility is gone. Gratitude is purchased and returned when done.
A warrant out for hope, for failing to comply, a death sentence for compassion for attempting to try, standing between the left and the right
as the darkness comes quicker and day fades into night.
We fail to notice or recognize that this season of giving doesn’t need to be compromised
by only thinking of it a single time of year. It can be everday in everthing we do.
** I wrote this during the holiday season. It now feels that this mind set could be incorporated into our current issues. It will be the mindset of the individual that will be the pandemic not the virus itself.