Like the winter trees,
Shed of their covering and
Nocturnal in their rest,
I nestle deep into my thoughts and
Hibernate in deep woods.
Stuck in my place,
I abide the confinement as,
I search for what expectation lies next,
What comes in the spring,
Whenever that may be.
|Artist: Erica Yanina Lujan|
I've no idea where these thoughts came from.
I am still exploring their meaning, if any.
They were written in the dead of winter.
Just now coming to light again.