Frozen

Winter creeps in silently
Ice shards snake through the greywhite landscape
Boughs sigh under the clinging crystal
Even breath hangs suspended, minuscule droplets hovering

At first, I recoil at the onslaught of frigid wind
Cringing, huddling, seeking the glow of warmth, a tiny flame.

But then  -

The icy fire becomes a cooling numbness
It strokes my skin, my hair
My soul
The quicksilver rivulets weave through my heart, my fingers, my mind.
They bind, hold me immobile

But

They soothe me, a chill caress.
I sigh and let the shards wind their way
Have their way

I push away flickering warmth
I douse the lone flame with an ice stare, shattering words
I sink into myself as Winter makes her way to my core

And at last, at long last...
The flicker is extinguished and

I rest.

Reviews

[Babe Roxx]

I feel the cool chill...where your hands are coldly numb, and you can barely feel your cheeks in winter, your words bring that same feeling...the tiredness you feel when you are cold and hypothermia sets in...and sleeping is the last thing you want to do when you rest, but you feel the need too...that's your write, how it sums up how you feel about life, at this point, the tiredness of the coldness, and it could be in the middle of summer. Awesome write as always RQ.

[ShaunMosley]

This poem is beautifully written. The imagery that you create with your composition makes me feel like I am actually going to need my jacket as I read it. I can almost sense a meaning of the words that exist below the surface. I may be reading too deeply, but its as if some experience has made you approach people with more caution. That once you were so open and giving, but something transpired to and you could feel yourself begin to question peoples words more in favor of their actions. And as your guard grows stronger,you struggle to hang on to the way you were. It isn't until you submit completely that you find the true peace that occurs when you learn to completely trust your instincts.
Great job and a great read! I really enjoyed it. Which means a lot because winter is my least favorite season.

[Allen Smuckler]

Whew....thank goodness you finally got to rest...
living in Florida the past 5 months, I forgot what the winters of New England feel like..Good thing I don't have to be there to find out...
your imagery was outstanding and I must say, I shivered throughout
The blue font accentuated the cold, icy feeling...almost like icicles.
I enjoyed this immensely and realize why I hate the cold... thanks for reaffirming and confirming. :)
allen

[Chris]

There IS fire in ice...

[Incendiary Grievances]

You portray things so incredibly: the reader feels as though he/she is facing the same "onslaught of frigid wind" that you are describing. Your imagery is fascinating and your descriptions breathtaking.

Giving in to this "darkness" is something that I have always seen to be described as a great struggle where one only encounters great suffering. Your assertion of a certain peace that comes with giving in is darkly beautiful and thought-provoking, although frightening as well. Fighting our way through something is hard. Letting it take over comes easy, and you portrayed that perfectly.

[patricia]

I could only see beauty in this poem, you painted such exquisite pictures of crystal boughs. You managed to convey how cold become hot, and burns. thankyou, a gorgeous write.

[Manda]

The emotion, the imagery, the beauty of it all...The whole time I found myself wrapping myself in my blanket trying not to shiver. I find your style dark and mesmerizing.

[Robin]

a chrysalis woven in glistening silk , prelude to metamorphisis

[asdarkeyesclose]

'At first, I recoil at the onslaught of frigid wind
Cringing, huddling, seeking the glow of warmth, a tiny flame.'

i loved the contrast here between the ice and fire, the warmth that brings life and the icy cold that symbolises death. some lovely description.

[Loki Ragna-rock]

like death