It’s winter in the northern hemisphere and I’m in hibernation mode. My mind and body are not inclined to be active much at all. They’ve probably been frozen over with fatigue for far longer than winter’s chill has existed.

I’m zombie-like with hypersomnia. Sleeping as if it’s going out of fashion and there’s no tomorrow. Starting each day late, always playing catch-up and chasing my tail Though there’s one redeeming feature because my creativity has sparked into life again. Hooray!

I’ve recently joined Substack and have been writing a few posts there, but I don’t intend to stop writing at this website even if it’s sporadic. Here’s a poem I penned a while ago that I’m sharing here for you alone. Though the topic is wintry, may it warm your heart, my friend.

Hibernation


This shrouded silence 
speaks of:
a world on pause,
earth on hush,
a deep humility
known only in rest, in stillness
and dependency.

Earth, its inhabitants
and animals 
hunker down, retreat
from the cold outside
and retreat into
themselves, their inward
thoughts and lives.

Escape seems natural
when the environment
is hostile
and we crave warmth,
companionship, the flame
of hearth and home
in preference to searing
chill and cold.

We create an alternative
environment:
one of abundance
instead of scarcity,
and warmth and heat,
instead of a prolonged,
deepening freeze.

Within this cocoon
we gather 
as we used to, eons ago:
seeking shelter,
sharing laughter,
sharing life and food,
and stories to nurture
our sleepy souls.

And we might forget
how our own 
deep work of soul and body 
sustenance
is going on deeper still, 
beneath the frozen
surfaces in a hibernating,
wintry world.
© joylenton

Winter’s changes blessing 

We bless the changes wrought in winter, the loss of balmy days that are far behind us now, because what lies ahead is wintry chill as daylight gets extinguished.

We bless the greater soul attentiveness and deliberation we need to help ease our sadness at losing the light outside, to which we gradually become resigned.

We bless the way bright colours drain, vanishing from the landscape as if sluiced away by rain, because it leaves an opening for monochrome miracles.

We bless the increasing cold that catches in the throat, freezes our bones and makes us long for home, fogs our breath and stirs our sleepy senses. 

We bless the quiet, soft stillness of snow, juxtaposed with crisp and hard ice crystals, and the way it causes a landscape to become rearranged, draped in unfamiliarity which brings with it a hint of mystery.