As the cold settles in, and clouds fill the sky, some of us are more influenced than others. Taken to the extreme, the medical model officially calls this seasonal affective disorder, but I believe overall, it’s overdiagnosed in our community. After all, adjusting to change is difficult for all of us, so naturally it makes sense that the changing weather, lighting, routines, temperature, clothes, customs, etcetera would have a noticeable impact. The following poem is an ode for winter and a wish for spring.
So long that the sound of a bird’s chirp is all but forgotten
Spring’s bounty has long past rotten
Dark days, and yet ever more sun than moon
Once the cycle moves forward, we shall rejoice in the sun’s boon