Winter In The South

(I) A feeble sun rises over foothills in the high country across the desert. It is already a diminished day, cold, dark clouds, piercing winds. And then there you are, bundled in a winter coat and around your neck a brightly patterned scarf. You walk in brown leather boots with poise and confidence, body and soul equally geared for this day's task. The way you trudge through snow reminds me of classical music that depicts landscapes. Some are flat and barren, others with ragged rocks half-buried in the dry earth, still others are submerged in a moving stream taking them over a falls into a quiet lagoon. You are the observer, you take these landscapes into your poetic mind and transform them into the stuff of literature. (II) I stand near you, but not next to you. There are too many guests who want to be in the disc of your admirers. The disc slowly rotates, rendering the scene blurred. Be warned: these admirers will drain you, they will take your essence and gain renewed strength and age, but you will be drained. Like the pelican who savages her own breast to bleed the blood that will nourish her children. You are that pelican. Oh, how quickly our talk shifts to sacrifice. (III) It is required That you do awake your faith... Dear life redeems you. "A Winter's Tale, " Shakespeare Are you the new Muse? ... the one who will greet each poet as if he were a whole being. It is a fusion of flesh and soul within The Spirit... It is a quartet of spiritual powers: Mind - Body - Soul -Spirit.