my soul is in midwinter

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Poetry & Prose
by
Linda Boutet

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a

My Soul is in Midwinter

My soul is in midwinter
A harsh and frozen hell ~
Crying for a fellow soul
Its weeping thoughts to tell.

Reaching from its darkness
Yet, finding only night ~
Searching for an answer
That was ever hid from sight.

Sobbing, ever onward ~
Yet, peace cannot be gained;
Love was, at most, a passing ghost ~
Wounded, shattered, pained.

Hours tumble, falling past~
How long can this sorrow last ~
I have no hope, no home for tears,
Only wasted, fallow years.

Beseeching, crying, reaching ~
A bridge to cross this pass;
A point to know the pain is through ~
I come to you, at last.

I feel you through the silence
Unknown and yet, full sure ~
Your heart is where I long to be
With hope, I can endure.

Now when sorrow comes to find me
It will know that I am gone;
For I found, at last, the home I'd lost
~ The bridge to you, I finally crossed ~

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