Feb 19, 2021
What am I meant to do with all this time?
So much about the nature of winter is written as mourning.
But the death it grieves is only temporary:
The trees go dormant
Creatures hibernate
Others retreat inside.
The world doesn’t stop in the winter
We are simply forced to see ourselves
Reflected in the light of our windows
As we ask questions about time
And how we’ve spent ours
Watching the world age
Wondering how we will fit back into it when spring comes.
Can we change enough to keep up with nature?
How much must I grow
To match the outside
And the miracles happening under the snow?
Winter is a season to learn
From Earth’s blessed assurance
That life and joy will always return
And still, I will be part of it.
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