A creature of habit to the point of predictability, I still may be able to surprise folk on the rare occasion simply because I’m also prone to veer off at tangents unexpectedly, spout non-sequiturs and be the mockingbird perpetually distracted by “Oh! Shiny Things!” This post probably fits into both categories, as one of the tangential zippings that might in fact be truly predictable in me is that one where I am tired of harping on the same topic–say, the seemingly interminable hot weather–and so decide to go, at least mentally, as far from it as I can. So today I am thinking chilly thoughts, so as to stave off heat stroke, and given my nature-lady bent, they lead me to what breaks the Winter’s back as well.

Warmth, when it is welcome again . . .

Seeking Persephone

Under earth, Persephone

cries out and wills that help should come,

but silent Death with stony clay

fills up her mouth to strike her dumb,

and while the icy silence reigns

and pressing, weights her underground,

only a whispered hope remains,

the faint insistence of the sound

an icicle makes as it melts,

and drop by plangent drop is found

power enough to break the freeze

and wake the sleeping, mordant earth,

wash cold Persephone’s shut eyes

awake, to tantalize rebirth

in pomegranate seed, in soil,

in root and heart held in suspense,

’til all rise up and re-commence

their dance and bloom and so uncoil

the bonds that bounded her in death,

revive Persephone with breath,

’til spring with brilliance flowers the earth.