Day 279: How Cold Comes

∴

cold can creep
in insidious ribbon
through little cracks and fissures
unseen.

it lurks as a phantom
and pounds as a storm
outside our doors and windows,
changing tactics and direction,
but always seeking a way in.

i sense it,
sometimes,
when i’m sitting on my couch
wrapped in robe and quilt,
and when the house is cool
with morning.

i hunker down in this illusion
of warmth
and i feel it –

the cold –

lap at whatever skin
i left bare
and exposed to air.

there is a little pang of fear
when i consider what cold could do to me,
and the soft spots it might freeze.

but then i remember
the love in me,
raging –
a fuel-less fire
locked in a furnace.

i close my eyes
and find that heat in my heart
and force it down to my toes
till they tingle
and move like toddlers.

i push it out from my chest
with a kiln’s breath
to match
the cold as it comes

until the fear turns into gratitude
for forced reminders
of the hearth
i hold inside.

∴

 

 

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