Tender child, a rose-in-waiting,
embryonic heart translating
innocence to jaded earth,
poetry before her birth.
Window to another world
where Narnia is freed at last,
where what the winter wind has hurled
can settle into Ice Age past.
Death to one sounds living knell,
swan song’s notes to bury snow;
Spring arises from its shell
as Winter sinks to grave below.
Autumn sky, in advanced stages of labour,
ripe with womb’s distension,
her anxiety and pain
threatening to overwhelm.
She has forgotten to breathe.
she recalls her training;
sudden intake of lungs delivers
North Wind fury.
they bring forth a son,
and name him
The sky, pregnant with snow, was surly and strange and wonderful all day today. I could only capture the smallest portion of its wild beauty…