Who will feel the gentleness of the evening breeze on their face if not me?
They force me to sit in the house when the winter comes.
The darkness colonises, days and nights alike.
I hold back and freeze in the icy snow so strange to my feet.
My creative hands numbed. They fear nothing they touch could ever live again.
I freeze on the inside.
No one understands the depth of my heart.
So I doubt its presence in my chest even more.
For days, I tremble with fear.
October, november, December, January, Feb and sometimes March, my spirit longs.
It longs for warmth.
The embrace of my soulmate could do, but only to a certain limit until I long again.
So when the time comes, I cannot help but kick the fear and jump out under the blues with the lilies and peonies.
April, May, June, July, August and September, I fly around with the butterflies and my heart stuck in my palm to absorb the sun.
I need it to last for another half year so my soul claps and sings.
But for the moment, let the wind blow my skin and the sun kiss my lips and makes us one.
And let it rain on me for if not me then who?
Who will the wind blow and who will it shine on?
I thrive in the kindness of weather.