A response to the 12:00 – 12:50 by Sarah Burgogne, Air’s Error
writen a sunny sunday @ Lise Weil’s
on feb 4, around 4 pm
So she
found the snow angel
Or let herself be found
I hide
under a blanket, a curtain and a robe
Winter no more
My heart whispers
Go away !
No, you go away
We call each other names
and the magic is gone
I don’t know how to love winter anymore
but she knows
How to love
and build a fire
and she gave me her sit
so I could watch:
the beauty of the blue and the white turning gold
and the still trees, soaking sun
and the moving bodies, seeking light.
the cold is grasping my legs
almost sucking on it
the cold likes my blood
and has been feasting on my cheeks – both,
and my belly and my bottom, lately.
I want to escape the winter vampires
while she’s able to embrace her angels.
Is it over ?
Winter and I ?
I did not skated nor skied or snowshoed for 2 years now.
Grieving, the departure of my black inner angler
the guardian of my hearth
the heater of my nights
the massager to my belly
My cat died – I helped her die
a year ago and there’s been, a ghost in my heart
since
No cat no winter
a cup of tea, maybe
To warm my belly from inside
a blanket for my legs
Love will shine everywhere you call her
remember
Just let me sleep
and let me gaze
and put your eyes, on a landscape
where you know
you can feel
the love
given and received
received and given
for years and generations
and wings of regenerations
to take space
to grow back
to rejuvenate
cause you can, in silence
let it breath
let it sit
let it rise
let it rest
Rest, and the rest will follow
rest, and the rest will follow
rest, and the rest will follow
rest
and the rest will
and the rest will
and the rest will
follow
