In the Valley

This space is quiet now.

This field is still.

A newly-fallen patch of talcum-white covers the ground.

Stillness undisturbed by the plodding tread of man or beast.

Where yesterday was the dawn of a new sun

Today is greeted with a cool blue absence.

But inside, underneath, a warm seed rests.

Planted deep in the ground.

Anxious to burst out.

Dying to grow?

Or growing to die

Or growing to die.

I sit here.

Saddened.

Leavened as the thin patch of frost.


Help me.