A grounding

Earth that cracks, crumbles, floods and saturates

Rumbling with unhurried growth and life below

Brown carpets patched with slicks of burgundy and ochre

Slate skies heavy with the promise of frosted faces

Everywhere a weight, a velvet curtain, concealing what we

Wish was there but exposing what we ignore

Structure, architecture, nature's bare skeleton

A foundation that spring will build upon

For while the view appears barren and stunted

Unseen lives are happening amongst the grey

Red and orange pinheads popping on charcoal stems

Green brushtrokes waiting to be painted as

The brush idles in the murky jar

Sleeping seeds packed tight with soil blankets

They will stir when they are ready

Like a lot of people I've been struggling with the darker days and bleak forecasts - both of which add up to a slump in creativity. On a stormy night while sulkily watching TV I suddenly had an idea to write about how it feels to exist amongst the season where nature has its big sleep, while also remembering that things are happening which we can't see. So, I tried a little poem, as I have been reading a bit more poetry recently and really enjoying the carefully placed choices and order of words. Writing this gave me a bit of comfort while the rain hammered outside and took my brain out of sulk-mode. Maybe give it a go if your normal creative hobbies are being scuppered by the lack of natural light.