Winter and Summer

The cold, its tendrils of wind
like fingers wrapping my coarse being,
the snow, like needles prickling my skin.

The warmth, its blossoming beauty
like a flower in May, the sun is kneaded
in my tender hands to become
strong and bright.

The warmth rises from within me
and shines, and the cold nods away
into dusk, awaiting. I exist beside
the fingers of icy breeze, but let my
inner warmth and light push any darkness
away from seeping inside of me, radiating,
pushing with soft rays of yellow light.

I am a vivid, beautiful light in the seamless
dark that I allow to surround me, yet
never engulfing me. I am whole.

elise.writer

VT

15 years old

More by elise.writer

  • january to july

    in the months of darkness and cold, i never stopped writing.

    i just kept it all to myself. every night, my own religion

    pages of pen poised on paper, pouring my heart out

  • butterflies

    i don't want to love someone

    because i'm supposed to

    you told me, one night in mid-july.

    warm air and sun fading in the sky,

    i want to fall in love with someone

  • lotus

    i've heard this story a thousand times before.

    i've seen it unfold. it started with a glance, became a smile,

    became a longing. when i realized it was my turn,

    i was too late. no one told me how hard it would be