Poetry: Wintertime
Wintertime
I don't know what the actual time is,
wether it's an hour later or earlier.
All I know is that when I went out for a walk at 5:30 this evening,
the light of the sun was only reaching the tops of the trees growing on the highest hills.
It was beautiful.
There was one tree, half dead, half alive,
eaten by a caterpillar plague one summer.
The light was touching the bare branches of its dead side,
and it was marvellous. Not morbid, but marvellous.
Love includes both light an dark.
To who fears the dark, the light will become a curse.
Light can not be lived without the dark.
Love doesn't favour her.
What a revelation,
I feel so relieved.
My dark can be.
My light doesn't have to keep me awake,
endlessly.
I may sleep in the arms of my own night,
and be relieved.
Welcoming winter.
Love Clara @wombloom
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STOPDo not miss the last post from @steemitboard:
Duality is fun. If it gets too hard or confusing you can step outside of it too which gives perspective, good and bad are simply up to us to decide so no need to get too stressed out or depressed.