There’s a hush caught in the thorn trees tonight

Some trembling little spirit stitching frost along the bark

And I swear I saw it breathe when I passed

A pale ripple of something older than the snow

Curling round my ankles

Like it knew my name before I spoke

The wind won’t stop its quiet questioning

Tugging at my coat like a child half-afraid

Asking what I’ve lost

Asking what I’ve carried too long

And every answer fogs the air

Then disappears

Before even I can hear it

Oh cold one

Keeper of the deep hush

Teach me how to stand

Inside your silence

Without breaking

Take this heart

This wandering, winter-bruised heart

Hold it in your pale, unearthly hands

Until it remembers how to beat without fear

Take this breath

This thin thread of breath

And spin it into something

That can survive the night

There’s a song hiding in the frozen reeds

A low hum, all vowel and ache

As though the river beneath the ice

Is calling the moon closer

And the moon, quiet as a mother ashamed of waking her child,

Leans down

Ever so slightly

To listen

If I kneel here

With the snow gathering at my lashes

Will the dark tell me its honest name

Just once

Before it folds itself

Back into the endless white

Take this heart

Winter, do what you will

It’s softer than it should be

But it’s yours

And take this breath

Make it something holy

Or nothing at all

I follow

Til the light breaks once more