Brittle

It's that time of year
Frosty fingers sting
Clutching at my naked limbs
… I feel exposed

I stand alone
Surrounded by difference
Aware that I am brittle

The sun comes
It melts my icy veneer
Here come the tears
I'm warm again

I sense a presence
A fluttering heart
A momentary rest of nervous energy
I crave its company
But this is a soul in flight

From beneath me… a vibrating
Of old and new life emanating…
Reminded of my roots, my earth, my source
I feel connected

It's that time of year
Frozen darkness numbs
Clinging to my drowsy limbs
… I feel content