The winter calls us all to lay and rest
to put our heads against the softened soil
and let the beating heart within our breast
easy away from constant beating toil.
it makes for us a beat of rustling leaves
plucked from trees each brown leaf one-by-one
elaborately its tapestry it weaves
by pulling threads – the colors of the sun
sleep – however long is not a curse
sleep brings dreams – for each of us a gift
a chance to let our waking thoughts rehearse
without wasting a moment left un-lived
or worse move side-to-side or in reverse
so when we wake – we truly feel uplift.
Written October 23, 2012