Winter Sun

In the midst of hazy punch, art and season’s kitsch
Through Christmas tree decorations’ overcastted view
Memory gradually fades in deceptive light
The taste of bitter almonds – do you know it?

Elsewhere the winter sun is shining
But here with me the sprouts of hope are killed by frost
As if somebody has pushed insurmountable rocks
In front of the golden sunbeams

Nevertheless wanderlust lurks in my slumber armchair
Even so wakes up enraptured memories
Millions of melancholically swaying purple thistle blossoms
Between leaves and branches of that time covered with dew
Under the heavenly silver moon

Let soften my hardened glacier soul
And lost in thought turn back to the yearned for distant lands
Finding again old friends from Edinburgh up to Inverness
Meanwhile still the severe frosts of my agony
Melts together with Advent cinnamon’s fragrance

Perhaps I should move Dream Mountains to there
And pick up crushed trails of long since forgotten ancestors
Far away from desk job and other worries
Dipping my soul into the dark blue of mystical highland lakes

I wish never to tire of dreaming in the wind
Above this mighty ocean of my morning’s hope
Why are paradise and hell sometimes so close to each other?

Elsewhere the winter sun is still shining
But here with me in the midst of hazy punch, art and season’s kitsch
Out of Christmas tree decoration’s overcastted view
Memory gradually fades in deceptive light

© 29.12.2003 ~ Sonja Nic Rafferty