We mourn the loss of color
as burnt umbers and rusts
blanket our garden.
New colors of autumn
give us brief respite
till North winds rule the land,
a land in shadow
and death.
Gardens in neglect,
grey skeletons nod
as seasons draw near.
Little rain, too much rain,
pestilence in many forms
devour remains,
storing energies
for life's new journey.
Crisp remnants stand sentinel
marking boundaries for future plays.
Great spiders weave webs
and guard new generations
of infant terrorists
that keep me from
my labors...Ha,
you little creature,
you make my skin crawl
as your worth I know,
but cannot adhere,
beauty with toxic undertones.
You have the power to eat me alive~
in my mind...eewww...
But, all I can do is wait,
knowing the coming lament
for days long past,
as each day closes
nearer to the death
I already long for spring.
This is life in the North,
the changing of the guard,
deep breaths taken
as events unfold in our journey
to the fond memories of warmth.
Oh brilliant sun, where have you gone,
forsaken to warmer climes~
we sleep...and dream.
This is the long time,
when time stands still
nothing moves, nothing lives
only raw beauty
trapped in the power of the deep, frozen sleep.
I do not like winter,
have never relished her charms.
As my garden transforms
writing her new mystery,
a novel of 'plants gone wild'
I wonder where each new friend
will peak out of it's sleep
into new fields of brilliance
harboring spring~
ah spring,
land of my dreams,
you are my true soul sister~
I rest in your arms
and wait.
Here we are again...check out Hey Harriet for the rest of the artists and our concepts of shadow. Be brave, join the group and feel free to leave comments.
