I was alone,
Alone in the forest of shadows.
I was sad,
Sad in the grove of silence.
And I was humbled,
Humbled by the loss of my own presence.

Alas, I was despondent,
For, no matter how vigorously I searched,
There was no rediscovery
Of that which I had lost.

I had become weak and feeble,
Old age had reached me,
Yet I was without the benefit
Of the wisdom of its years

Then, as despair overcame me,
She, the Winter Mother,
Sat by my side and comforted me.
She, the one who knew my name
But would not speak it,
Comforted me…

I was alone,
And she held me in the shadows.
I was sad,
And she showed me empathy in the silence.
I was humble,
So she gave me a source of pride.

Under her guidance
I became so very cold,
In her, I felt a strange compassion,
For she knew how cold it would be.

Then, the Winter Mother,
Called out the name she knew,
Her voice resounding in the shadows
Splitting the fog and the silence.
She had called out to me,
Yet the name she had called
Had never prior fallen on my ears,
But, I knew that name well.


I am a child of Winter,
This I cannot deny.
I have grown cold during the icy months,
Strangely though, the frozen air warms my blood.
For me, there is comfort in winter,
There MUST be comfort in winter,
For the winter is all that I have left…

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others