Dark is the small village I live in.
My house the only house that sparkles.
I've yet to take down the multi-colored lights that dangle outside.
I love to see the snowflakes sparkle as they fall by the light.
Plus walking under them at night.
The lights are my favorite thing about the holidays.
Not the presents or the food.
Or even the family or the people.
The winter in its stillness.
Its cold solitude.
Glittering in my black gloves as I build a snow man.
Or as it drifts down softly to melt on my tongue.
Snow is the best thing I could ever receive.
The white sky lays heavy like so many emotions.
You could reach up and touch those skies.
So many complain about the winter.
The barren land of bitter cold.
But it is beautiful in the harshest of ways.
Like the love of a bitter goddess.
Tempting to touch in the glimmer of multi-colored light.
But melts away at the warmth and tenderness of your touch.