Choking life from leaf and heart,
All the while preserving that green, vital spark
I will need to rise anew, come the THAW.
Jewelry sparkling in a January morn,
Encased in Winter's cloak
Upon the frozen land I stand,
Lonely sentinel to life's potential,
While Summer's grasses slumber under icy branches.
All the while, the mice tunnel through my roots,
Seeking last year's corn.
Yet even that tiny life sustained comes with a price,
As Coyote and Crow starve and Owl awaits the heavy snows
That allow a safe pounce on frozen ground.
And great Northerly winds do howl
In concert with my tender buds
Struggling to sustain life within
While frozen lens penetrate to my core
Crackling deep as branches flail.
All hail, the Ice Queen cometh,
Death her constant squire.
Surcease, her lover, astride the throne.
And at her side the frozen shaft, my limb ...
It does Her bidding, Now.
Ice has me in its talons,
A death grip upon my soul.
Will this Winter never end?
Must I endure the indignity of shredded bark
And broken bough as ice rends the life from me?
What light is this, green and blue,
Singing in the skies of life and warmth,
Sizzling in its electric potential,
Sun spot red, yellow, gold. A terrible solar flare
Fortells the death of Ice itself.
Borealis, bringer of light, life and warmth,
Banishing ice from the tundra of my mind
and surface of my twigs.
In company of Spring, Ice cannot sustain.
Her reign abridged, once again.