Why are you afraid to feel
The yearly sleep of winter,
When there’s frost-scent in the air
And leaves from the trees splinter?
Have you never longed to curl up
Underneath a quilt,
After a long day of toil
Caused your soul to wilt?
Wasn’t it the sweetest rest
When you could move no more?
The instant you rested your head,
Sleep began its lure…
Trees and flowers are like you,
Thriving on the land.
Do not mourn when leaves are crisp,
But try to understand.
Hear that rustle in the breeze?
It’s nature’s stifled yawn.
Go inside and find a blanket,
Because life goes on.
Mariella Hunt 