In the Rooms of Our Days
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
Snow falls, soundless,
Layering on branches, like cells
On the body, creating silence
And drapery, touching everything.
The winter wishes for nothing else
Than to build up smooth mounds
Over the ruins of sleeping seeds
And the bones of animals that passed away alone,
Giving them the kind of protection required
For secret awakenings to warmth and light—
That we all need, that we all long for
As we stay awake all winter, walking back and forth
In the rooms of our days, unable to sleep,
Unable to close our eyes and trust the spring,
Unable to remember that once
We slept in darkness, that once
We emerged from the darkness,
That once, again and again, we blossomed
Into the hands of another, that we rose up
To a welcoming sky, and that we will all, once
Again, and again, return to sleep
Beneath scrolls of silent snow.
