Birth of Winter by RD Larson

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The Birth of Winter

By
RD Larson

Never mind that golden leaf, the one that dangles
By a single spider thread.
Care not that the flowers have faded and bent.
Worry not that the birds have left forever.
Feel not the chill of wind from the north.
We are more, my love.

Never mind that the puddles freeze to silver
Below the dark and lofty firs.
Have no grief for the hunted stag on the run.
Wish not for the berries that grew so wild.
Bear not the loss of warm sunlight glinting
With dim and nameless fear.

Don't let the darkness into your waiting soul.
For listen to me,
I have the sight to see the future now for us.
There is more to come, more life to come.
For winter is not the death it seems to be.
Fear not, my dearest love.

The winter fire will warm you with it glow,
While I hold you close.
You will have your warm sweater knit of stories,
You will have your feet covered with words
and sonnets will hang with glory from your ears.
I am with you, my love, always.

When the tops of the trees cry in the hard wind
I will comfort you.
When the branches fall I will shield you safely.
When ice forms I will hold your hand tight
And when the snow falls we will delight.
For it is anew we celebrate.

I am your lover and you are my love, it's true.
Be calm for I am here.
Winter deals its deck when rivers roar and trees fall.
I will hide you in my arms and pester you with talk
of far away travels and sunny days on beaches.
I will coddle you, my sweet.

The dank smell of toadstools and mulch will hover,
In the midst the ferns
Snows will fall and melt and fall again.
The pious will pray and some will die,
But neither you nor I will join the others
We are earth's children.

As all living things huddle and wait for spring
We will sing and dance.
Many others will harken back to bygone days;
While others will slip into the dark to die alone.
Some like us will survive.

For winter is not the end of joy for those who love;
It is the season to celebrate!
Thanking those we love and want, we praise;
Scorning those who limp away and cry too loud,
Throwing caution to the wind we dance to music
made by our love.

And when the days get slowly longer we grin,
At the fears we hid away.
Wildly gay and running free, we drift
Like the last snowflakes, the last cold
Winds of the bitter north and east,
our heart swelling with joy and life
As we love one another.

Winter is the birth of dreams and cozy joys,
It is the blanket we treasure.
And the game we play again and again.
For winter is tamed by love and love
Foils all the fears of death and damned
As hearts swell in songs of happiness.
You are my beloved.

Christmas nearly here, isn't it?

When I was a kid I got an orange, three pair of cotton panties from JC Penny and a book from my Pop. Sometimes it was Nancy Drew and sometimes it was the Hardy Boys. The books were almost always second-hand. One year I got a book called Girl of the Limberlost. And when I was about twelve my Pop got me a book called Green Mansions about a bird girl who lived in the jungles of South America. Since my birthday is so close to Christmas I didn't really get birthday presents. I usually got a cake though, a great big double chocolate, chocolate frosting Devil's Food Cake. It was so good that I thought it really ought to be called the Angel's Food Cake instead of the white fluffy kind. We always had a gallon of vanilla ice cream and candles on my cake. Today the children I know would be very unhappy to have such a meager Christmas. One year my name was put in as needy child by one of my teachers. My mother and father were horribly embarrassed at such a label. We weren't needy; just didn't have a lot of money. The real estate agent that drew my name bought me a doll that wet, a chalkboard with an easel and games. He bought me coloring books and a wood burning set. I was dizzy when Mama and Pop took me to his house. His wife and he were old to me, much older than my own parents. They had food that I had never had and special treats. I sat in their kitchen in my blue and pink plaid dress that my mother had made for me at the beginning of the school year. My mother had braided my hair very tight and scrubbed all my old skin off until there was only raw pinkish skin like a sunburn. My yellow hair was tied at the braids with blue ribbons. The old man wanted to hold me and watch me open my gifts. I shook my head no and couldn't speak. My mother said, " Go ahead, honey. They want to enjoy your happiness." I looked at my Pop. "Ahem," he said much too loudly. " She 's a shy kid and doesn't take well to petting. We live out of town so she is alone a lot. But watch out, you get her to talk and she'll talk your leg off." That made everyone laugh and the Mrs. Real Estate lady pour Morgan David wine for all of us, even me in a tiny glass. Then we had cookies and nuts and salty crackers. Finally I got to open those gifts. I didn't realize for a bit that they would go home with me. I thought the presents were very nice and told the man and the woman that I liked the gifts. The woman told me she had gotten a cat when she was a little girl for Christmas. She said that they just happened to have some kittens that were ready for a new home and would my daddy let me have a kitten too? I didn't know what to say. We had barn cats. Would we have another cat? My dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Girl, what do you think? Want a baby cat to look after?" "Yes please," I was able to whisper. We all went out to the garage except for Mama and the Mrs.
The kittens were sleeping in a box. I picked the biggest one. I named him Tommy and he lasted much longer than my Christmas gifts. Besides he was my friend. He liked my dogs too. He was the real gift that year.