Spring in Waiting

Some years the sun

battles the weather

and the birds rise confused

singing of mating

as the snow slowly

smothers the wary buds

There’s a queer stillness to silent warfare between spring and winter

Spring is seldom an easy succession here.


For more successions, easy and otherwise, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

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Transitions

I waited in the city

and anticipation tasted sweet

and disappointing

but there is something to be said

for opening a door

and stepping into

magic

img_2453It is hard to describe the power of an alien world outside your window

There are few words to explain the feeling of realizing your front door is a portal to adventure.


For more portals and adventures, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Treadmarks

Roads are seasonal

whimsical things

the big ones can be seen

nearly year round

if you are a careful observer

but most of the smaller

shyer paths

can only be found

when the elusive

northern vehicle

lets its tracks burn through

the thawing ice

img_1521You can also lure out northern roads with salt

Some days, it amazes me how anyone survives the winter here.


For more tales of winter survival and elusive machinery, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Still Waters

The frantic energy of running water

seems like a force that can’t be challenged

and it is strange

to stand on the frozen bank

and no longer feel

the heartbeat

img_0472Water is the bloodstream, still or moving

I am always fascinated, and unnerved, by the way that winter puts life and movement on hold.


For more freezing, and thawing, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Emergence

There is no magical death that ends the winter.

Flowers bloom, buds emerge

Only to be slain by sudden snow, persistent frost.

Winds that reach down and strangle the green

(Shake loose the darling buds)

Are as common as the uneasy calm of rain.

It takes no special genius, no seer

To unfurl that first green flag.

In the end, it is the queer courage

Of things that persist and persist

That rises, defiant, above the dead leaves of the year before.

IMG_0571Whether it is truly spring or only winter’s pause, courage rises

In spring, I am always reminded that strength is not always obvious, that the sprouting of dandelions can break cement.


For more feats of strength, obvious and otherwise, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Step Lightly

It is easy to forget under the raw force of winter,

The delicate pieces that land in the shadow of the storms.

Wind-sculpted snow, small crystals rising above the ice-

Brief, perfect images that our passage transmutes,

Strips of delicacy and shape.

By enjoying the beauty,

We seed its destruction,

But our steps create our own mark

On the shifting landscape.

We cannot return those moments we destroy.

It is an exchange to leave our own signs of passage,

To leave pieces of ourselves as payment,

As reminders.

IMG_0464Some forces are crafted with a breath of wind, some with a heavy tread

It’s always important to remember what we destroy in our passage.


For more destruction, subtle or otherwise, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

An Unbound Sky

They mark the bodies sometimes

A weathered piece of wood or a ribbon

Wildly out of place in the dense undergrowth.

It’s not the snowfall, although sometimes it is the snow-

There are more deaths when the sky is clean and clear and unobscured.

No buffer then, no protection from the absolute cold,

From the unchained, uncaring horizon.

Yet we walk those paths,

Seek those days.

How to explain the pull of

That danger, that power?

How willingly we pay the cost of

Light on our face and hearts,

Of dizzy joy beneath an unbound sky?

IMG_0438Sometimes all that remains is a fierce and persistent joy

Some things can only be felt rather than explained.


For more power, unbound and bound, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

 

Reset

There is something about untrodden snow

In places where even the animals and the pine pollen

Have yet to mar the unbroken layer of white.

There are so many scars on the ground beneath-

Fallen trees and haphazard rocks,

Rotting bodies and leaves and debris.

The snow covers all the signs of struggle and time,

Allowing winter to work its alchemy on those surfaces.

An imperfect reset,

A slow polish waiting for the rain wash of spring.

IMG_0395Snow creates that brief moment of perfection before the disruption

I’m fond of both the perfection and the disruption.


For more deceptive disruption, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Good Fences

A good barrier is neighbourly-

Keeps the bears out and the dogs in.

But the other world, the less polite world,

Doesn’t like fences.

Windstorms take out even the metal,

But, more often, it’s a long, slow clawing back

Of ground that isn’t ours to claim.

A rotting fence post slowly twined

With alder-

Pulled down into the inexorable snow.

IMG_0334The best fences become part of that which destroys them

The physical barriers aren’t always the most permanent barriers.


For more barriers, physical and otherwise, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Mirrorwater

In the deeper forests,

The older, sheltered passages,

The waters never fully freeze.

Ice reaches out and is stayed-

Maybe afraid of the water-shaken sky

It can never hope to reach.

The water’s reflection is always kinder

Than the reality-

Edges smoothed and light expanded.

But even the ice can’t survive

The deep darkness beneath

The lying mirror.

IMG_0531Reflections can conceal as much as they reveal

I still remember the first time I tried to break through the reflection on the water as a child.


For more deep waters, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.