Winter's Child
Winter's child, son of storm,
Knows rain and lightening and cold.
Black skies, threatening clouds,
The night is frozen, yet still on he tramps.
He goes in silence, his head bowed already.
Besides the sky the world is white.
He wears a coat which his parents gave him,
But now it is torn by the quarrels that were.
He has built for himself an armour of metal,
But what is its use against this terrible cold?
He drags his feet; it is hard to walk.
The snow falls on. How far? How long?
Winter's child, son of storm,
Knows rain and lightening and cold.
The minutes pass by like these flakes of snow,
Each one unique, never to return.
They are borne by the wind, pass by his face
In a thunderous maelstrom from the desolation of his soul.
Here comes the hail again. pounding his body,
Cold anger, calculated hatred, not understood.
He bears his bruises: they will be added to his scars.
He foregoes shelter, ease.
He thinks this is his punishment but he knows not his sin,
His guilt thus far is hid from his eyes.
Winter's child, son of storm,
Knows rain and lightening and cold.
His trail drags on far into the distance,
To the summer of his forgotten childhood.
Now the snow falls on him again, filling his tracks;
He no longer recalls the warmth. It has fled from body.
His frozen heart too fearful to love;
His eyes close, fearing a glance.
The hand that he sought, that would hold him, support him,
He has not found - because his own are in his pockets still.
And so on his knees he falls, falls asleep in the snow.
Alone he strode and alone he is left.
Winter's child, son of storm,
Knows only snow, never love.
YEled shel ĥOref, ben lesufA,
YodÉ'a hu GEshem gam baRAK gam kaRA.
This poem is copyright 2002 The Twighlight Wolf, to whom comments may be sent.
