Winter's Kiss

Winter's kiss lay softly on her cheek,
yet springtime dreams a blessing even so,
grey the skies of circumstance she’d seek,
supreme performance still, she’s yet to show.

Wise, the artist’s brush strokes nature’s glory
as lines of light define past wild days.
Ah, the bones of winter creak their story,
while dancing in her mind, a child who plays.

Sun cast upon the light of inquisition
existence more a habit well worn through,
the function of the mind to choose position
‘Let go the spirit!; Life seeks to renew.