Winter Speaks
by Michael Romani

Life is cyclical in its nature
This we learn as we mature
Comfort reveals its way to sorrow
Finding itself back come tomorrow

Lies revealed; losses compensated
Times rushed in; others hesitated
Memories flood and are investigated
In kaleidoscopic moments of the uncomplicated

While darkness is a constant
In our very human history
One might make the comment
That renewals is also no mystery

In the winter of our humanity
When God is declared dead and all is vanity
Tradition itself is all but dead
Or, so goes the dark whimsy in our heads

In this leap from surrealism to mundane
It's a discombobulation of the profane
We find that life has many clues and allusions
But, perhaps too few moments of inclusion

Profound encounters become fragments of memory
In extended dalliances that are modern family
A triumph of imagination explores these ties
That riddle love with its redemptive alibis

The author winks by way of quiet introduction
While despair and hope offer each their seduction
Always caught up in the hustle and chaotic rush
Which of us will have the grace to blush?

(c) January 21, 2018  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved