In Winter Still

The axe through the wooden piles plows through
Cleaving, a wintry fog and dry rain leaving,
And chips of timber and clovers left in silence pondering

To cleave, splitting a rock in twain
To cleave, each half of the rock once did to each other
To leave, to cleave and no longer to cleave

A subtle rebirth in passive cycles, yielding the calves
In rebuttal to sterile winter staleness, triggering the valves
Of life beyond winter’s paleness, and winter’s comfort

A world of water, a planet of liquid, full of motion
Churning like oceans as leaves are turned on trees
Tuning to the shape of the wind in flexible notions

The boughs unyielding, in fruit and frozen in place
In still pursuit of life again from hibernation, a close
Of remembrance, hoping to shine in snowy clothing

[...] Read more

poem by Hunter Hansen
Added by Poetry Lover
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