If Winter is Willing

    by Larina Warnock

If winter is willing, I'll crush the last

layer of ice, dig until I reveal everything

relevant to life: seeds in soil fed by death.

If winter is willing, I'll shake clinging leaves

from trees too cold to grow, bathe in snow

scattered like ashes across my brow.

If winter is willing, I'll remember

joy I used to know in the scent of pine

needles and basking in holiday glow.

Winter knows that a heart can freeze

surely as fog or rain, that the death

of a child seizes hope in a season of tears,

an indeterminable season of pain.

© 2013  Larina Warnock

Larina Warnock is a mother, wife, teacher, and writer who believes strongly in the power of forward motion, advocacy, and reaching out. Her work has appeared in The Oregonian, Poet's Market, Space & Time Magazine, and others, as well as in Touch: The Journal of Healing. Her chapbook, Guitar Without Strings, is available from The Lives You Touch Publications.