This poem was inspired by my therapist’s analogy that my life is currently in winter season, and that my task for the week is to “do nothing”.
When life is winter,
We hold on to fallen leaves.
Reminiscing the Autumn,
Before white took our trees.
We wait and wait,
Like an eager child waiting for Santa Clause,
Waiting for the white to thaw,
Waiting for a sprout to sprawl.
We can’t bear the cold of winter,
We hammer along,
Chopping down any tree we saw!
For we can’t bear the cold of winter,
We run around in circles,
Filling up our minds with thoughts,
Filling up our wounds with chores.
If only we recognize the winter season,
If only we know winter shall thaw,
We can perhaps embrace the chilly season,
And let the cold enter, let our bones feel sore,
Let our minds be empty; Let our soul ignite a roar.
The cold sharpens our spirit,
Sore bones make us strong,
We are no longer the same hunter,
We are no longer looking back at Fall.
Our Amours polished by winter,
Charges forward to pierce the fog,
The sun warms the horizon,
And up a sprout begins to sprawl.
Be grateful for the cold of winter,
Soak in the serenity of winter’s rest.
For spring is just around the corner,
Patiently waiting to fill your soul with the very best.