Winter

In darkness lies midwinter’s lonely road
beneath the bleak discriminating erne.
He pads midst silent seas of snow and firn
and stride upon the troglodytic wold.
The sun grows shy before his slow advance,
the moon tenaciously asserts her berth.
Her glow illuminates the raven’s mirth
and floods the season’s gelid, hoary manse.
Amidst the dead of night is birth the morn
when wintertide is at his fullest flow.
The bitter winds across the tillage show
the brutal, bloody path to glory’s bourn.
The solstice gleam approaches in the tomb
dispelling night with light in heaven’s womb.

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close