reborn.

spring and summer are seasons of doing
i plant and i plan the clean rows
of my garden
of my soul
of my life
i clean out old closets and
sell moldy memories at the yard sale
for twenty-five cents
but as flowers grow
weeds grow alongside

spring and summer are bumblebee busy
diligent ant busy
fraught with dancing and doing
full with the blooming and being
fireflies, fireworks, fire pits
all lights that inspire us to 
live
in the moment

autumn blows in and
slows our pace
chills our face
dries up the garden until
the very grandiose of my spirit
falls petal by petal into
the forgotten, unturned soil

winter is a season of stillness
i sit and i stir
for things past
for things future
for all that heaven has placed in my hand
and taken away
i allow the silence to speak
the chill becomes frigid and
icy fingers push deeper into
fleece lined pockets
the eyes of the soul
turn inward, burrow deeper
taking comfort and warmth from
the flickers of passion
the embers of hope
the kindling of belief

i melt the disappointment and doubt, and
let anger burn,
dissipating into the gray skies
along with the neighbors’ rubbish
the flames of goodness
light the dark
and melt the hardness
to ash
dust in the winds of change
​
the silence makes vows
makes promises
makes new dreams
built with calloused hands
calloused hopes
in candlelit evenings
soon enough the snow will melt and
the sun will push away the gray
and
beneath the snow
beneath the stillness
life will have been reborn.