Melancholy reigns this season in,
twixt giving thanks and old year’s end –
Quiet is the repose of piano echoing through my mind,
haunting hollow of chord resolved to single key left in time.
Fence posts along this lonely lane, silver stark in solitude,
grace the reaching dusty purpose of this road so lined in perpetude.
Strangely lush the season turns as snowfall drapes and smoothes the lines
that converge at road’s surreal horizon that holds the echoed key in time.
Hushed this world becomes, yet holds alive the echoed tune
that plays its chords across my mind and draws me deep into the wound
of season’s stoic standing here.
Silent snow in drifting, flits a gentle welcome within the woods,
so draws a gentle footstep where drift my thoughts to feel the good
of this season’s melancholy, dear.
Poignant keys regard these trees, echoed in my mind and soul,
and so fulfills my aching heart, relieves the winter’s cold.
Here in winter’s wood, between the dance of snow and hush,
the melancholy of this season enrobes my spirit, delivers trust
that tho’ the days reduce to shadows, it’s peace in whispers given here,
that I find solace between the thanks and old year’s end, so near.
There for weeks between, my memory and spirit stay
with echoed keys of one piano, dancing through the thoughts I play.
For it is this season’s purpose to pull my heart to nature’s deep,
grant my soul the love of God, whose whispers and kind heart I keep.
That is why –