Between the blocks of red,

The blazing orange, the crutching yellow,

The hearth of Earth shall burn forever,

And perish in winter it shall never.

Besides the silent, freezing, night,

The burning oxygen, heat, and fuel, is light,

An escape from the falling icy, beads,

A symbol from Mother Earth, that winter still bleeds.

The soil of earth blanketed in white,

Hands of trees that are bare at sight,

Flowers of all, still yet not there,

Demeter is grieving for her daughter so fair.

Humans are planning for the spring clothes and chairs

Not huddled in a blanket, nor starving, or dead,

Just sitting on a bed, eating some bread,

Humans have evolved too much to be said.

The first 3 stanzas of my poem are about the view from nature (about 50-100 years ago, so I used language differently, and the focus is more on surviving), while the last stanza is about what is currently happening.

Featured image by Atle Mo from Upsplash / Squarespace free images.