Sugar plums and 
nutcrackers have gone 
back to bed 
tucked away in 
attic or closet 
or under beds
for another year 
no more caroling
just the crunch
underfoot of ice’s
very own snare
the winter wonderland 
with its snow 
and frosty chill
and breaths frozen
clouds in place 

No one sees
growth or progress 
they don’t witness 
struggle or loss
they might see
failure and despair
awaiting one’s demise 
but all anyone 
ever sees really 
is the shadow 
shedding of a 
life once lived 
personal triumph in 
the face of 
tragedy remains secret 

The sun
finally breaks 
into a
thousand different 
pieces landing 
on places 
making them 
glow gold 
but most
are still 
so sleepy 
in this 
early cold 
winter dawn 

The forest might 
seem a good 
place to grow 
nestled amongst other 
trees in between 
but find yourself 
a hill far
away from others 
to set down 
your roots acorn 
for there on
that very rise
will you be 
able to spread 
out your canopy 
and if lucky 
be the limb
for some swing
of gleeful children 

Heat is on
sun is up
coffee is poured 
music is playing 
here I sit
peacefully looking around 
nary a care
for nothing is
that shouldn’t be 
here and there
and actually everywhere 
that my happy 
eyes land upon