The winter never lasts…

The numbness that stays in the frozen time;

The icicle that hangs low from the barren boughs;

the winter that stills every breath of life;

as does this pain that claws and clutches;

like the creeper, winding on a dead rot;

wresting out the sap that never lives;

or the wrought of times that have passed;

the squeeze that sucks out life into numbness

unmoving, like the grave tree sunk into stillness;

but as unending as it may seem, this spell of winter

or the cold spikes of pain to poke like glass splinters

it does tear down, with the wisps of the cold wind;

the waft of the icy maiden; the trails of a blizzard;

to set free, these thoughts frozen in time;

those crystals will break one day to melt into the river;

if only I could open up to the wind, let go;

I would find myself flowing into the streams;

My being, to gush into that fullness;

The becoming, the living for “now”?