Almost ten years ago I wrote a poem in mid-winter. I was drawn to the trees, fascinated by the way the branches looked silhouetted against the sky. They spoke for me in a mysterious way during a long winter season in my life. Slowly it worked itself into a poem. I don’t think I’ve ever posted it here on the blog, but maybe some of you are feeling the long stretch of winter (the seasonal one, or a metaphorical one). Maybe it’ll help you reach beyond the temperature and into the deep time of waiting and the restorative power of a fallow season.

I’ll post the Winter poem, but longing for Spring and in a more spring like season myself now, I wrote an In This Season poem from a spring stance. Will post it in a few days…spring is after all, perpetually, just around the corner and then suddenly, it arrives.

In This Season

There’s a large tree
stripped for winter
branches bare and stark
against the pale sky uplifted
and more insistent
in this season of heavy rains.

Its rustling resplendent robe
has fallen and still 
it seems to stand
barely breathing
still
receiving.

Could I be as brave?

© 2019 – Laurel Archer

Photo Credit: Laurel Archer