Hostage of this winter

Hostage of This Winter

I am grateful  for  winter and  for this heavenly  isolation
for this monochrome  dreamland
seemingly so inhospitable to mankind
There is much pleasure in looking through the safety
of the glass  to the world outside
feeling the warmth of the smoky air
from within this old  home
and from the wood stove
And in the  often auburn  coloring of  afternoon  sun
on the snow fields
where  the drifts of wind driven whiteness
gather at the sides  of old cedar fence posts
and on the leeward side of
the tree trunks

I look above to the trees swaying in the north winds
the fluffs of snow fall from swaying bows
and begin a new dream
At such times my imagination actually floats away
into the wandering of cold winter currents  above
as they make their way through wide valleys
alternating of hardwood ridges
and cedar swamps
through these hidden places where the
wildlife hunker down
and though I feel at home here
I wander peacefully with my dream as well

And we fly with the winter winds  to far off places
where granite ridges
as old as the heavens themselves
lay as crookedly  as when the glaziers left them there
at least most of them
though some of them remain still
And I gaze  below this icy  flight
to the tops of  eagles wings below
as they too play out
the warmer thermals below me

And then I awaken slowly in my  favorite  upholstered  place
this warn out reading chair
a fleece over my shoulders
my book fallen away to  that  page now lost
and I look over again to the nearest window
as the winds outside begin to wail
bringing in the new storm for December
and at the dusk on the snow outside
and me here warm as toast
and I think aloud
”  Am  I hostage of this winter ”
and smile

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EdF

Sometime in my life, I started to write about my life journey, or in poetry, in story perhaps to sort out the missing from the found perhaps and enter them into a place of safekeeping. The soul of the writer is perhaps best described in their own words, emotions and thoughts. If these poems or stories touch something inside you then maybe I have succeeded in sharing. I will not write about my self in profile, because self isn't so important in writing. Only the journey in words and the sharing are important. Why would we say "Now about me!"... I'd rather write about life, nature, serenity ...

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