The Warm Heart Of Winter

In winter some of us walk alone.

Even at the very centre of the warm heart of winter,

where friends and familly gather around the fire,

even there each of us are subject to the seasons.

We feel it grow wilder outside,

and all power to you, the wilder among us,

who run to the thunder and lightning roaring,

whereas I am the Chinese zodiac’s rat,

sneaking under-foot unnoticed.

I choose to come in from the cold,

ancient instinct seeking shelter.

I curl up to the warm core within me,

where I am humbled again,

huddled around the inner flame,

Still. Silent. Resting. Breathing. Bowing

before a shrine in a temple

where I have come to honour our inner nature.

Layed bare as old growth falls away

we are left to face our naked selves,

to deny or embrace our vulnerable state

where we are innocent,

and so, transparent.

We become immune to the woes

of those who turn bitter in the winter chill.

Leave me to slumber,

please know I am content.

I will emerge as new growth soon,

I am just waiting for the Sun to wake up.


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