On the fourteenth morning of the second month, my latitude sprinkled with ice.
As I watched snow fly, each flake reminded me of winter, and then, one shrieking call of the blackbird, which, in turn, inspired this poem.
Valentine inside Ice
That thin layer of icicles on
every inch of your garden has petrified
water & song of the blackbird.
they hold so deep inside their heart
still fear raw sharpness of winter,
blunt edge of mid-February,
epic layer of crystals on
every branch of your pine trees,
fur cone, needle…
Still far too shy to set them free.
That elusive outburst of
showcase of desire
in between blue & icicles
still needs the sun.
It is the song I want to hear.
And if you too
could let notes fly,
reveal true meaning in your
smiles, and find your
way out of winter,
and leave your
I would sing back in unison.
© Nat Hall 2016
Filed under 60N, Arcania, colours, earth, fire, geopoetics, home, island, life, literature, music, north, poet, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, snow, spirit, verse, white, winter, wordplay
Already the sun has begun to rise higher at its zenith.
To celebrate its return, men have built long boats to immolate out in a gale from winter’s depth. Whereas Scalloway opens a season of fire torching, and merriment inside halls, the island’s (modern) capital will attract crowds local and global on the final Tuesday of this month.
Winter will die out by fire. Like cosmic laws on the island, we brave the rawness of the ice that grips the Auld Rock to the core – from Saxa Vord to Compass Head… As snow covers heather and shore, and swans gather on frozen lochs.
And every trip defies the light in icicles.
Dawn starts earlier,
Crystal purple before sunrise.
It feels magic when this sky speaks in such colour. By the time I go home, light still lingers behind curtains… With it comes sly thin layer of black ice that seek your feet every morning.
Winter feels harsh on us, dwellers of the north. Yet I find solace in the thought that February welcomes Imbolc – the early signs of Earth’s Spring – in spite of struggle with more ice.
Winter possesses so many claws it defies those of the dragon. Soon the sun will revive our hearts as it continues to rise higher in our sky.
In the meantime, we shall raise our eyes to torches, it is written in every bay. 🙂
Filed under 2016, 60N, Arcania, blogging, earth, geopoetics, home, images, island, north, roots, scotland, shetland, shore, snow, spirit, winter