Today I made my bed
I knew the gift that had finished
the dreams becoming dust
but not the one that must begin
I pulled the sheets up tight
knowing no need for fright
the blankets next
for warmth tonight
my day’d begun
the gift of breath
within my lungs.
I smoothed the spread
and prayed for the day
To be covered and kept
that I might detect.
I made a pact to follow the Light
as I pulled the sheets up tight.
I posted this last year in April as we waited for another snow storm. Now it is the end of February and we are waiting for a possible 8-10 inches of snow. I am tired of winter.
No soul can bear
the cold for length
So fly you crow
of winter.
The howling north wind
changing south
to bring the whispered
spring.
We ache to hear
the silenced song
of brook and bird
and bee,
So fly you
crow of winter
with your bracken
and your bones
I am so thirsty
my lips are split
my throat parched
my voice is gravel
I hear the whispered, “come”
I am so thirsty
face is blistered
arms beet red
my gait uneven
I hear the whispered, “come”
I am so weary
this wasteland walk
where’s the cup
that will quench my heart
I hear the whispered, “come”
by Miren
It’s winter and
the snow
is covering the city,
like hair on a
head…
if you use
your imagination
you could build a
snow fort with a bed.
The lake is frozen
and great for skating
though it is cold
…it’s beautiful
…it’s snow
…snow
…snow.by Miren Herbert
My granddaughter wrote this poem for me. She wrote it as she traveled to my house and was looking at all the snow and frozen lakes.
With fresh eyes
In the morning light,
I see the fog blanket
was laid last night.
Gently laid to
cover cattails
and fallen logs
to hide the pond
from moon and stars.
Laid so mice and frog
could rest
till daylight’s flame
would light the match
to show us
the rested tract.
Open Ears 