stacegens

Hold the question, until you live into the answer ~ Rilke

Winter

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Winter

Winter spirit, prolonged night, muted speaks

Walks with burden along her barren path

Wrapped in warm gray, while the ridged branch creaks

Blows bitter air about, releasing wrath

Transformed solemn worship song rising

Labor for fertile grounds desired change

Requests for her blessed authorizing

Silences, returned from eternal range

For her wisdom seeks but trust, less is lost

Replace evicted presence of peace sought

Reflect, to muse, to co-create the cost

Veiled souls landscape no longer distraught

Emerging threshold, world of between-ness

Coarse and tender, Winter Guardian bless.

 ~Anastasia

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