February Again

The wheel turns slowly
early February means snow and cold
this time of quiet, of cold skies, distant stars
time to sit with the darkness, and love it back

not quite time for snowdrops
not quite time for me to grow
I live in two worlds, one outer face that smiles
while I simmer, soak, and seethe below

the time it flies by, can no longer pretend,
there will be a slow down, a stop, or space to breathe
the past stays in my thoughts, while the future jostles for room
I want to be present, but instead it seems futile to resist
the pull of a precious, warming feeling I felt a long time ago