Winter’s Solace
I. The Breath of Winter
Cold winds hum through the trees,
their barren branches weep,
the earth covered in frost,
as if time itself has frozen.
I wander alone,
my thoughts wrapped in layers,
like the snow on the ground,
each flake a fragment of memory.
A quiet ache lingers,
like a forgotten name
etched in the pale sky,
fading as the days pass.
Yet, in this frozen silence,
I hear a distant murmur
the whisper of my soul,
still seeking, still yearning.
II. The Weight of the Past
Behind me, shadows dance
in the dying light,
flickers of old sorrows
that refused to die.
I trace the lines of regret
with trembling fingers
the stories I never told,
the love I never spoke.
Winter knows my heart,
knows the cold emptiness
that wraps me in its arms,
yet somehow, I feel alive.
The past is a heavy coat,
but I wear it like armor,
protecting what’s fragile,
nurturing what is yet to come.
III. The Search for Solace
Where do I go from here?
What road remains to walk?
I search the silent sky,
wondering if the stars will answer.
I close my eyes,
and listen to the wind’s song,
its melody soft and wise,
sung by the earth itself.
In the stillness, I find solace,
not in the answers, but in the questions,
the space between breath and thought,
where hope flickers like a candle.
IV. Hope in the Cold
The future is a distant light,
hidden in the folds of snow,
but it is there, I know
a promise etched in the dark.
I lift my head,
eyes tracing the horizon,
and though the storm rages,
I begin to trust the dawn.
For even in winter’s freeze,
there is warmth to be found,
in the whispers of tomorrow,
and the strength to rise again.
@ZenArashi
I really like the format; it reads like stages of grief for me. Each break to reason, to question. And we don't always like the answers. Very introspective for me.
Thanks for sharing.
@Dingleboop
Dingle, yes the format is intended as stages of grief and processing pain. Winter always been melancholic to me. It’s written akin to haiku-esque sonnet. I appreciate your response.
@ZenArashi I love how this poem guides us on a quiet, reflective journey with winter setting the scene. The shift from cold emptiness to the search for hope feels so genuine. Like Dingleboop mentioned, I really appreciate the format, too. The pacing, with each section unfolding gradually, gives a sense of discovery. It’s like walking through winter, each step pulling you deeper into yourself. Beautiful!
@azurePond
Azure, thank you for your kind words, much appreciated. Def made my day when you really understood the heart of what I was trying to convey. I truly appreciate your insight, I wonder what feelings do you associate with winter ❄️
@ZenArashi Thank you! I truly appreciate your poems and your thoughtful comments as well. Winter for me... well, it brings a mix of both good and bad memories. But if I had to sum it up, I'd say it's impactful—cold and brutally honest. Winter has always forced me to look inward and really reflect on myself. Oh, and I love Christmas—the vibe of it is just something special. So, I guess I'd say winter for me is like a brutally honest friend—tough, but real.
@ZenArashi
Beautiful and poignant. I am too melancholic at the moment to do justice to such a well crafted and emotionally intricate poem. I apologise, for it certainly deserves great praise, and promise I shall revisit it when the steel in my spine returns.
@ZenArashi I am new to poetry, an it's interest; like an undiscovered door opening. Winter for me is a time to see what can be both extremes, either peaceful or painful.
The poem, is beautifully written. Thank you for the referral.
@FuzzySimba
Ohana.
Thank you for reading my poem and I’m so stoked you’re convinced to join me and others in poetry world. 🙂
Appreciate your kind thoughts on this poem and yes, winter has this dual effects just like Frost’s Fire and Ice.
@ZenArashi
As promised, I return to sing the praises of your excellent poem. As @Dingleboop and @azurePond have already said, the structure and format is beautiful, artful, and perfect. I also found the stanza thematic shifts brilliant as each segment starts with an external, almost metaphysical exploration of that stages suffering. Then moves seamlessly into the next stanza with a reflection on the self, bringing the narrator into the foreground. Then (in segments one and two) drawing deep into the existential nature of the effects of such hardship on the narrator through the lens of the wintery metaphor. And finally each of the last stanzas in each segment revealing in small doses a little more potential and hope for something better. I assumed that the last two segments are three stanzas only as a deliberate demonstration of how one moves beyond the earlier stages of grief, and whilst new challenges are to be faced, there is growth and growing resilience.
I think the frigid extended metaphor works wonderfully, both for the biting and numbing sensations it evokes, as well as in reflecting the impersonal force of nature at is most hostile; Quiet, but implacable. One must face and overcome or fall and be lost to the freeze. It also just creates such beautiful imagery. So very lonely, yet so achingly beautiful. Much like feelings of loss; to suffer them is unbearable. But they hold an element of something so precious. They demonstrate the depth of our feelings for another, and our capacity to be moved so greatly that our very world seems to shut down in ice when the objects of our love are taken from us.
Your messages of hope and resilience are so tender. One can almost picture them as snowflakes sheltered in our cupped hands to prevent the breeze from carrying them off, or losing them amongst the white carpet of frost.
I was very moved, and so pleased you shared it. Apologies that it took me so long to respond.
@BastionKnight
No need to apologize for taking your time; your response is absolutely worth the wait! 🙂
Wow, knight, such a thoughtful and detailed response. I’m really touched by how much you’ve connected with the poem and how you’ve delved into its structure and meaning.
Your comparison of the growing resilience to snowflakes sheltered in our hands is just beautiful, and it’s exactly the feeling I hoped to evoke. To me, it’s akin to the tenderness and fragility of hope in the face of overwhelming sorrow. It’s a quiet strength that we carry, moving forth in life.
