In Wintergreen

The surface can be made beautiful
and a perfect veil can always be created
to cover over the agony of life
if all we want is something superficial

but when in blue
our world becomes shaded
when the fingers of doubt
tear away the canvas we’ve carefully painted
when a gathering chill of sorrow
flows out from the graveyard where our dreams are planted
we will find ourselves with nothing
…the very thing that we’ve created

but what if there was something deeper
like the roots of a tree planted in the desert
a mass of grasping tangles, reaching down for the water
that only grow stronger when attacked by the winter

what if our deepest desires
are for something more than pretending
that we live in summer
when we can see the ice and snow spiraling
even while we are collapsing
to the floor

what if our deepest need
is for something real
something true, a life spring thawing
welling up within
the soul set ablaze
with a fire that will warm even those without

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