January always seems like such a long month especially since we are usually caught in the throes of blustery winter weather where I live.
Snow, ice, blasts of frigid temperatures, bleak and often dismal skies. That’s usually the norm here every January. And this first month of 2019 proves no different from years past.
I happened upon this poem one day while gleaning for thoughts on our coldest season of the year and it seemed to perfectly accompany a photo I took in the dead of a January winter a couple of years ago. The poem’s ending also fits well with the ideas of light rolling around in my mind for over a week now.
Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday’s dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow.
Like heart and soul in every man
who let their light grow ever dim
a spark still burns low within
longing to burst forth, to shine again.
Like bare branches on a January morn
don’t feel cold, don’t feel forlorn.
Our Heavenly Father like warm spring sun
like gentle warm wind when called upon
will make each light burn bright again.
By Nelda Hartman
January won’t last forever and neither will winter weather. Soon spring will burst forth in all its glory and winter will be frozen into the past until next year.
What’s January like in the area where you live?