Waiting Out the Dark

It is eight degrees
and there is snow on the quarry.
The whole world outside lives
in shades of grey.

The electricity has not returned,
a victim of high winds that pummel the house.
Sleet clamors at the windows.
It will be dark today. All day.

Inside there are candles.
You lie on the sofa with a quilt,
listening to the angry weather that surrounds you,
glad for the small fireplace that warms the room,
not the whole house perhaps,

but enough to keep you alive
until the power returns.

About this poem

It is not just bad weather that robs us of power. It can also be life events: death, sickness, a relationship lost, a long period of unemployment. These things can sap our soul, and we have to nourish it, even if it is alone as we heal, as the pain and fear and loss.

We have to nourish our souls, because life runs in cycles, and the new day brings warmth. It is worth waiting for.

Tom

PS – the picture was taken in the quarry across from my house.