Winter
If my life seems gray, does that mean God was never there in the first place?
Sup babes.
Love you.
This poem is different from my usual style, it actually has a form!!! See if you can spot the pattern (Hint: it has to do with the last word of a line). If you get stuck you can look up the structure, it’s called a sestina. Pretty cool. Challenged me in good ways and pushed me out of my comfort zone.
It came to me while I was walking outside and complaining about how freaking cold and sad and gray everything was. We do that in our lives sometimes too, don’t we? It’s easy to recognize God in the “summer months” of our spiritual journey but harder to recognize Him in the cold and desolate months.
So yeah, think about that as you read this sweetie lil poem. Enjoy!
WINTER
Breath escapes my mouth, a nimble cloud in the frosty air.
The Sky is especially sad today—she shivers as her face turns gray.
I haven’t the sun for a while. Where did you go, Sun?
I wonder if his light still shines.
Maybe the Sky misses him, misses his light,
Misses his dappled caresses turning her gray skies blue.On the underbelly of the world, the sky is blue.
Carefree joy stumbles like a tipsy teenager through the air.
The summer reeks of warm light.
Everyone has forgotten that drab word: gray.
He, unapologetically and unobstructed, shines.
And by he, I mean the Sun.What does he dress like, the Sun?
Does he wear a European cut suit, baby blue?
Yes, I bet he loves to dress elegantly, and his confidence shines.
His feet dance on their own, spinning exuberantly through the air.
He would never be caught dead in any fabric of gray.
Maybe that’s why the Sky couldn’t stay away from his light.She always loved that about him, his yellow light.
She created novels in her mind, grand romances of The Sky and The Sun.
Now she sits, cowering behind clouds, eternally gray.
Never again will she dance with that suit, so elegant and blue.
Snowflakes tumble down faster and faster through the air.
And she wonders if his light for her ever did shine.Her own hair has long since lost its shine.
Her heart has ceased to be light.
The heavy storm clouds stifle her, cutting off her air.
What does the Sky dress like, to forget the Sun?
She throws away her dress of blue.
Trades it for gray.I look up at the Sky and smile at her expanse of gray.
In her own way, she still sweetly shines.
Ice sparkles on top of a lake, a bright brilliant blue.
She does not know it, but he never stopped giving his light.
She cannot see him, but he’s there. (The Sun)
He is trapped under the belly of the world, longing to spin her through the air.Though we may not be able to feel Him in the chilly air, the Son
Will never cease to shine.
Even when the blue sky turns grey, we thank you, God, for your light.
Love you dearly, my dears.
Remember that He is with you, even in your winters.
Live laugh love
Anj