The War begins

Of what was thought,
Conversely
Fruition

Oh this hell bitch,
Trepidation

It edges around sweet sanity,
Creeping

With violent step
Entering Frosted pass

Deep...
Deep holes
And sinking into them

Ever deepening holes
And sinking in....

So treading
Muddy,
With shallows that seep

Stilling the tides that would take you

But it is what it is,
What it is ...
What makes you

Becoming
And leaving
And finding self

Becoming
And leaving
And finding myself

Long Winter lingers,
Now is the Winter

My ancestry Shakespearian descent

Longing,
Come and forage a Spring

To till and spade
And not make them a weapon

to till and dig
And not hold it a weapon

A blessing then time,
All blessings be kept