“Winter Into Spring”

WINTER INTO SPRING

 

Mysterious, unfathomable, muted season,

where life and reason are suspended

upon a cold metal wire.

The wind a razor of clipper glass

sailing through glassine air

slicing the pallid sun’s rays–

an attempt to warm a frigid earth

to a remembered fertility.

 

Solemn seasonal palette,

white, gray, black,

cut with a flash of blood-red–

Kamikaze cardinal!

like the demon wind bearing its name,

dares the thin and paling air

to brighten for a flashing moment–

A witness to recurring life.

 

Season of bountiful snow,

brings a thirst to the land

where hoar-frost leaches

moisture with a crystallized withering-

hands to crack, bark to shatter,

and all dries and curls about

in a perverse furnace of freeze.

 

One day, a pale day

a southern breeze

breaks through the bonds of Winter

brushes up, slides up

upon the ice

and a crack like a thump is felt in the gut

a slow drip-drip of water

signals the end of this harsh season,

as icicles emit a hesitant stream,

and then the ice dam down in the brook

cracks with a louder sound

and the rush to Spring

is heralded with these natural sounds.

 

A blind movement

felt deep in the soil-

a careful stirring,

barely a rumble in the gut of Earth

as birth beneath replaces death above

pushing through the Great Womb

to a pallid sun above.

The tyranny of Winter is broken.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2019

“Winter Into Spring”

 

(Watercolor, “Salisbury Downs”  Jane Kohut-Bartels, 2005)

(A detour from “Tin Hinan” because today feels like the poem)

 

WINTER INTO SPRING

Mysterious, unfathomable, muted season,
where life and reason are suspended
upon a cold metal wire.
The wind a razor of clipper glass
sailing through glassine air
slicing the pallid sun’s rays–
an attempt to warm a frigid earth
to a remembered fertility.

Solemn seasonal palette,
white, gray, black,
cut with a flash of blood-red–
Kamikaze cardinal!
like the demon wind bearing its name,
dares the thin and paling air
to brighten for a flashing moment–
A witness to recurring life.

Season of bountiful snow,
brings a thirst to the land
where hoar-frost leaches
moisture with a crystallized withering-
hands to crack, bark to shatter,
and all dries and curls about
in a perverse furnace of freeze.

One day, a pale day
a southern breeze
breaks through the bonds of Winter
brushes up, slides up
upon the ice
and a crack like a thump is felt in the gut
a slow drip-drip of water
signals the end of this harsh season,
as icicles emit a hesitant stream,
and then the ice dam down in the brook
cracks with a louder sound
and the rush to Spring
is heralded with these natural sounds.

A blind movement
felt deep in the soil-
a careful stirring,
barely a rumble in the gut of Earth
as birth beneath replaces death above
pushing through the Great Womb
to a pallid sun above.

The tyranny of Winter is broken.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2018

 

“Winter Into Spring”, poetry

Geese at Winter’s End, wc. Jane Kohut-Bartels, 2006

WINTER INTO SPRING

–

–

Mysterious, unfathomable, muted season,

where life and reason are suspended

upon a cold metal wire.

The wind a sharp razor of clipper glass

sailing through glassine air

slicing the pallid sun’s rays–

an attempt to warm a frigid earth

to a remembered fertility.

–

Solemn seasonal palette,

white, gray, black,

cut with a flash of blood-red–

Kamikaze cardinal!

like the demon wind bearing its name,

dares the thin and paling air

to brighten for a flashing moment–

A witness to recurring life.

–

Season of bountiful snow,

brings a thirst to the land

where hoar-frost leaches

moisture with a crystallized withering-

hands to crack, bark to shatter,

and all dries and curls about

in a perverse furnace of freeze

-.

One day, a pale day

a southern breeze

breaks through the bonds of Winter

brushes up, slides up

upon the ice

and a crack like a thump is felt in the gut

a slow drip-drip of water

signals the end of this harsh season,

as icicles emit a hesitant stream,

and then the ice dam down in the brook

cracks with a louder sound

and the rush to Spring

is heralded with these natural sounds.

–

A blind movement

felt deep in the soil-

a careful stirring,

barely a rumble in the gut of the Earth

as birth beneath replaces death above

pushing through the Great Womb

to a pallid sun above,

–

And the tyranny of Winter is broken.

–

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011-2015, published in “Pitcher of Moon:”, published 2014, available at Amazon.com,

“Winter Into Spring”, a poem

Marsh Geese, watercolor, Jane Kohut-Bartels, 2007

 

This is such a weird Spring.  Warm, almost balmy days, and then fierce rain and wind storms. Today it feels like Winter again with chilling temperatures  not changed since morning.  The afternoon sun doesn’t help, this pallid and feeble orb barely breaking through  a white sky.  There is no blue to be seen, and I pull out sweaters and socks and watch the cats curl into balls.  Even they know that Winter is not done with us in some way.

Lady Nyo 

 

 

WINTER INTO SPRING

 

Mysterious, unfathomable, muted season,

where life and reason are suspended

upon a cold metal wire.

The wind a sharp razor of clipper glass

sailing through glassine air

slicing the pallid sun’s rays–

an attempt to warm a frigid earth

to a remembered fertility.

 

Solemn seasonal palette,

white, gray, black,

cut with a flash of blood-red–

Kamikaze cardinal!

like the demon wind bearing its name,

dares the thin and paling air

to brighten for a flashing moment–

A witness to recurring life.

 

Season of bountiful snow,

brings a thirst to the land

where hoar-frost leaches

moisture with a crystallized withering-

hands to crack, bark to shatter,

and all dries and curls about

in a perverse furnace of freeze.

 

One day, a pale day

a southern breeze

breaks through the bonds of Winter

brushes up, slides up

upon the ice

and a crack like a thump is felt in the gut

a slow drip-drip of water

signals the end of this harsh season,

as icicles emit a hesitant stream,

and then the ice dam down in the brook

cracks with a louder sound

and the rush to Spring

is heralded with these natural sounds.

 

A blind movement

felt deep in the soil-

a careful stirring,

barely a rumble in the gut of the Earth

as birth beneath replaces death above

pushing through the Earth womb

to a pallid sun above-

the tyranny of Winter now broken.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011, 2012, from “White Cranes of Heaven”, published by Lulu.com, 2011

“Winter Into Spring”

“Nuthatches”, watercolor, 2006, Jane Kohut-Bartels

WINTER INTO SPRING

Mysterious, silent season,
Where life and reason are suspended
Upon a cold metal wire.
The wind– a razoring of clipper glass
Sailing through glassine air
Slicing the pallid sun’s surface–
An attempt to warm a frigid earth
To remembered fertility.
–
Solemn seasonal palette,
White, gray, black,
Cut with a flash of blood-red-
A Kamikaze cardinal!
Like the demon wind bearing its name,
Dares the thin and paling air
To brighten only a moment–
A witness to recurring life.
–
Season of bountiful snow
Brings a thirsting to the land
Where hoar-frost leaches
Moisture with a crystallized withering-
Hands to crack, bark to shatter,
And all dries and curls about
In a perverse furnace of freeze.
–
One day, a pale day
Southern breezes
Break through the bonds of Winter
Brushes , sidles up
To ice
And a crack like a thump is felt in the gut,
A slow drip-drip of water
Signals the end of this harsh season,
As icicles emit a hesitant stream,
Then the ice- dam down in the brook
Explodes with a louder sound
And the rush to Spring
Is heralded with the noise.
–
A slight movement underground
Felt deep in the soil-
A careful stirring,
A rumble in the gut of the surface
As birth replaces death
Pushing through Earth’s womb
To a weak sun above–
–
The tyranny of Winter now broken.
–

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2011, 2013
From “White Cranes of Heaven”, 2011, Lulu.com

“Winter Into Spring”

–

Mysterious,  muted season,

where life and reason are suspended

upon a cold metal wire,

wind razored clipper glass

sailing through glassine air

slicing the pallid sun’s rays–

the attempt to warm a frigid earth

to a remembered fertility.

–

Solemn seasonal palette,

white, gray, black,

cut with a flash of blood-red–

Kamikaze cardinal!

The demon wind bearing its name,

dares the thin, pale air

to brighten for a flashing moment–

A witness to recurring life.

–

Season of bountiful snow

brings a thirst to the land

where hoar-frost leaches

moisture  with a crystallized withering-

hands to crack, bark to shatter,

and all dries and curls about

in a perverse furnace of freeze.

–

One unexpected day,

a southern breeze

breaks through the bonds of Winter

brushes up, slides up

upon the ice

a thump is felt in the gut

and a slow drip-drip of water

signals the end of this harsh season,

as icicles emit a hesitant stream,

and then the ice dam down in the brook

cracks like thunder

and the rush to Spring

is heralded with earthy groans.

–

A blind movement

felt deep in the soil-

a careful stirring,

barely a rumble in the gut of the Earth

as birth beneath replaces death above

pushing through the Great Womb

to a feeble sun above–

–

The tyranny of Winter finally broken.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011