Winter's Wisdom

Winter's Wisdom

A Poem by Axilya
"

...that nips at the hands and the lips. Her hands that captures magic fade, into the old wrinkled hands of Grandmother. Snow falls away from the clouds, frozen tears that melt when you catch them.

"

It is a whisper of a tear that fell down,
trickling down a cold pale cheek.
Winter has settled down for it's time,
precious life wilting away for the Father.

Autumn's air falls into cold bitter air,
that nips at the hands and the lips.
Her hands that captures magic fade,
into the old wrinkled hands of Grandmother.

Snow falls away from the clouds,
frozen tears that melt when you catch them.
They swirl around never the same cry
over anything that ever was found in life.

The moonlight that lits up the night sky,
giving the breath of a majestic scene.
It captures the frozen mist of breath in the air,
the mystery and magic that exists within death.

That's winter for you imparted the old crone,
in her ancient wisdom of the changes of winter.
The giving and going of the tides of life is shown,
existing within the changes of the Seasons.

Moon worshipers and season lovers,
winter is a time of bringing together and making.
To close in within the family's heart of hearts,
to celebrate the life and death of the Seasons.

That's what winter is about said the crone,
the hearth and the fire that is borne here.
The whispers and tears of the winter in moonlight,
melting away into the waters of spring.

Waters that rush as the ice melts away,
that gives birth to the emotion of beginnings.
To journey back to a new beginning,
winter is the death and the rebirth of Seasons.

© 2008 Axilya


Author's Note

Axilya
The image is not mine! I did not create this! I wanted something more fitting than I have in my display of artwork.

--something I wrote a long time ago. But I am putting up here for a contest. With a little editing.

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Added on September 3, 2008

Author

Axilya
Axilya

About
Currently, I am working on my more major story, Aislinn and Darach. I will try and keep it updated once a month, but it depends upon my creative mojo. I like to dream. more..

Writing
Growing Up. Growing Up.

A Poem by Axilya


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A Poem by Axilya