Winter of the Soul

Winter passes and another arrives, doors bolted, streets heavy with snow and ice.. No rain comes, no flowers color the eyes.. Nothing remains but trees that have shed their green leaves, weighed down by frost. And I am alone — my soul has lost its yearnings and wandered astray among the roads, no sound but the clatter of the wind, no color but the white, desolate across the reach of a soul longing for distant warmth. Here I am, then, besieged by frost — the beloved have left their places, the tables sit silent without their patrons, the cups remain empty with nothing left for a last sip, and the lights have gone out.. Even the waiter has left the place and forgotten to say goodbye.

Who hears the voice in this desolate space? Who finds for the soul a warm place, a light to guide it to other roads.. No voice then, no beloved, no place — for snow and ice have erased the features of things, the details of the place, and left a punctured memory with no recourse but silence.. A silence inhabited by silence.. And a body with nothing left but one last cry:-) Be you my warmth, my place, my soul, and my coming days.