[Cyran0]

It's cold out tonight. I was standing on the patio, my black overcoat pulled tight, cigarette hanging from my lips, and I contemplated the skeleton fingers of trees silhouetted against the deep blue gray of a cloud covered sky. A few weeks ago they were the veins of the planet bringing life to the extremities and I fed on it like a single cell on the fingertip of everything. Now they look dead and in my black coat, somberly smoking and pacing with a long face and tired eyes, I guessed that I looked like their pallbearer.

Quiet inside myself I passively contemplated cold as a concept. We're warm when we're alive and when we die, we lose that heat. We become cold. Plants and reptiles feed off the radiated life of the sun so they too are alive, basking in life on a rock or in the grass. Everything that lives is warm. But it's cold out tonight.

Matter, when excited by energy, vibrates and expands like a flower opening to the world. When that energy is gone, it contracts with tiny molecules huddling together like frightened children alone in the dark. Even the water riding air currents as a microscopic mist gives up the fight and clings to the stones, grass and windshields of the world. And if water is life, what is frost? Pretty as a graveyard in spring, it glistens in the light from the kitchen window.

Before long it will be icicles hanging like threatening daggers over doorways and under rain gutters. Crystallized water as sharp as razorblades and I can't help but shiver. Every year they get somebody. I turned away from the thought and stepped inside to the dry artificial heat that promises to cradle me like an incubator until spring.

It's so cold out there. It's nature shutting down for a while. So I sit in the tungsten glow of a single lamp and type this, my cat purring warm and soft in my lap, and I comfort myself with the tiny life I've made here. I'll be ok, safe in this little womb. I wrap myself in hand knit solace and listen to the closed in still of it all, trapping the heat next to my body, hugging life, waiting for winter to end.

Cyran0

wow, I felt it all, I love your writing Cyran, I just love it.

Jin xxxxxxx

[moodyblu]

That's a fine observance my friend. So still...everything. Sleeping...in it's bareness...open. Cold...cool...so blue.
There is beauty to be found in still...cool... sleep. You have described it.
Take care...d.

[Perna]

Winter is coming, the goose is getting fat
Please put a penny in the old man's hat
If you haven't got a penny, a ha' penny will do,
If you haven't got a ha' penny, then God bless you

Nice warm reading, Cyran0. I enjoyed it very much.

[Cyran0]

Thanks guys. Little moments like that can really strike me sometimes and while I was going to just put it in my journal, I'm glad I decided to post it here.

Cyran0