january is black ice. the day after the party, messy and the liquor is gone. it is piles of wet blankets. it is scraggly promises hidden under the bed. it is empty pages. it is a crick in the neck. january is waking up and forgetting the dream.
i want to learn to embrace winter. hold it in my arms and tell it it is beautiful. inhale its icy kiss and pour myself into it before it leaves again. winter is the sacrificial season. it reminds us of our love for spring. it is the rebound, the lover we sleep with one last time. it puts up with our demands and insecurities, our hopes for being more than we are. it warms our beds with promise. winter takes one for the team.
january wants us to grow, to listen to our dreams and remember what we long for. it seduces our motion to rest and coaxes the creativity out. i will slow dance with it, sip tea with it, cuddle and canoodle. i will hear its whispers. welcome its gifts of hibernation and stillness. let it awaken my desires. i will make january mine.