When winter comes,
My soul slows down
And seeks to hibernate
In the holiness of God.
I embrace the frozen Earth,
As it divinely revolves
Around the gracious,
Crimson sun.
Cold air bites my face,
Making me thankful
To be fully alive
In such an icy season.
Darkness extends
And then contracts,
As the promise of Spring
Pushes through the frosty
ground.
My soul reawakens
From its sacred slumber,
And rejoices in the
splendor
Of life yet to come.
© 2018 – John Stuart
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