When winter comes, memory knits old dreams into cold blankets, the season mumbles through frozen smiles and teeth chatter in their roots—breath never frozen, floats away like smoke on the chill wind. Spring brought us hope, a resurrection of hearts waiting for the first green to rise and spread across a flood of tears. By Summer we were fearless as the blood ripened in our veins, moving fiercely, coursing our way boldly through endless days, counting our nights as if they were stars... By Autumn, though, each falling leaf seemed to whisper a reckoning as it fell And now, as Winter begins to close its icy fist, and the skin tightens against each knuckle, some fingers will turn sallow white, yet each breath drawn through cold and pain is a moment gained in this journey toward light.
Yes! Such a great visual, especially with the skin tightening around each knuckle, whitening some of them. Winter is so fearsome. But I'm saving this poem as a way to help me give it its due anyway. Thanks, Paul!
Thank you, David & Please don't go green! As for sprezzatura, I think lots of people equate the word with a sort of effortless nonchalance, a casual spontaneity, or worse, contrived/feigned naturalness, art without art, but I think that sense of sprezzatura can also mask or disguise just how difficult some things are to express.
Another 'loose' translation of Sprezzatura is 'Effortless Elegance' making something that is very difficult seem like it is quotidian when it is not. It is commonly associated with Baroque Music, very flowery, very ornate. Perhaps you may discvern that I have a certain weakness for the Masters: Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Handel, Schubert, and, of course, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I also like The Bard, Marcus Aurelius, Proust, and many others. I say this not to preen, but to demonstrate that I have an appreciation for some of the finer things in life. I sense that you are a kindred spirit, Paul, and I am glad that Ms Pamela recommended you to me. I promise to put off turning green for a while.😉
What a great poem to celebrate and encapsulate the solstice. I don’t know how you do it Paul; you’ve got an incredible lyrical gift. You must have attended the Orphic school of Poetry. 👏👏👏
Morning Paul. I absolutely love this piece. I've always been very sensitive to changes of seasons, and it only intensifies as I get older. But, I have to say I love those sensitivities, and especially love it when something like your beautiful poem fans them!!!
Emotions have seasons.
Very lovely, especially: "each falling leaf seemed to whisper a reckoning
as it fell." Where we are, how we got here, and where we're going.
I like the image of winter closing it’s icy fist ....thanks for the image
Yes! Such a great visual, especially with the skin tightening around each knuckle, whitening some of them. Winter is so fearsome. But I'm saving this poem as a way to help me give it its due anyway. Thanks, Paul!
You’re welcome, Gabrielle. Thank you for reading it!
Thanks for the comment, Joan
Agree with every comment here
Paul, you write with such Sprezzatura that I find myself green with envy!
Thank you, David & Please don't go green! As for sprezzatura, I think lots of people equate the word with a sort of effortless nonchalance, a casual spontaneity, or worse, contrived/feigned naturalness, art without art, but I think that sense of sprezzatura can also mask or disguise just how difficult some things are to express.
Another 'loose' translation of Sprezzatura is 'Effortless Elegance' making something that is very difficult seem like it is quotidian when it is not. It is commonly associated with Baroque Music, very flowery, very ornate. Perhaps you may discvern that I have a certain weakness for the Masters: Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Handel, Schubert, and, of course, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I also like The Bard, Marcus Aurelius, Proust, and many others. I say this not to preen, but to demonstrate that I have an appreciation for some of the finer things in life. I sense that you are a kindred spirit, Paul, and I am glad that Ms Pamela recommended you to me. I promise to put off turning green for a while.😉
I have enjoyed all those you mention so we probably do have much in common!
See!
Yet each breath drawn thru cold and pain
Fall is the notice
To prepare for a winter's
cold introspection.
Just sayin
What a great poem to celebrate and encapsulate the solstice. I don’t know how you do it Paul; you’ve got an incredible lyrical gift. You must have attended the Orphic school of Poetry. 👏👏👏
Thank you, VP-Glad you enjoy it.
Real and dreamlike both. So much better said in the other comments than I can, so I’ll say the truth, it is a beautiful piece.
Thank you, Patris
Morning Paul. I absolutely love this piece. I've always been very sensitive to changes of seasons, and it only intensifies as I get older. But, I have to say I love those sensitivities, and especially love it when something like your beautiful poem fans them!!!
Good morning, Rich, and Thanks for your comment. Love your piece about your brother. I have a brother too, a twin.
I love this poem, Paul. Happy Solstice!
Thanks, Diane!
First day in Flagstaff for the holidays and just rising to greet the day. A good poem to start the week. Snow coming tomorrow!
Thanks for the restack, @MelAnn
Thanks for the restack, C.J.
So good, every bit, every line.
Thanks, Wes
Is a moment gained toward Sprìng.