Frozen in Time

Snow.

White crystals fall from heavy gray skies.

Bitter howling winds whirling cold fingers

that curl around this old house.

Whistling through cracks and crevices.

Winter in Michigan.

Snow crystals turn.

Hard driving icy pellets smother limbs and branches.

Growing heavy,

bending

bowing

popping

cracking

and then crashing to the cold unyielding earth.

Stripped.
Cracked.
Broken.

I awake to the crashing.

Wincing.

Prayers instantly lift.

Whispering safety for us,

for protection of our beloved trees

and for the wildlife we feed.

Icicles cling.

Grow.

Freezing rain driving down.

I look out frosty windows.

My heart craves southern warmth and sand between my toes,

not the frigid north and icy eyelashes.

A favorite ancient Wolf River stands stoic.

Clinging to deep red apples too high to pick.

"Wren Tree" succumbs.

Breaking...like our hearts.

Splitting in two.

Our favorite shady maple that was so full and beautiful.

Birds found refuge there.

Our little wren made her home there every year.

She will have to find another.

We will miss her sweet song,
and hope that she returns to find refuge in the cherry trees instead.

Clean up is continuous

with wary eyes cast upwards at drooping, snapping branches.

Neighbors offer help. 

Our hearts full of gratitude.

The earth seems to sleep in the cold.

The generator hums.

Going to bed in warmth

but waking to cold for three days.
I feel grumpy instead of grateful.

And then...

sunshine from clear, azure skies.

Not warm, but bright.

Our eyes close against it,

seeing it behind our lids.

Amazed by the piercing color.

Wishing it would melt the ice,

but it does not.

The trees sparkle.

Twigs click their iciness.

Dark shadows dance across white under glittering treetops.

A walk to the barn brings numb fingers and a red nose.

The garden sleeps...frozen in time...

as I dream of Spring.

~  Eucharisteo  ~

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