Winter Speaks Memories

This poem was written a few years past in the winter time. When my depression becomes overwhelming, especially in the winter months where I struggle the most, this poem helps me put my depression into perspective. For so many years in my life, the past has always hurt me in the present, it is one of my greatest failures in life. But, the last few years I have turned that failure into fuel for my writing fire. Enjoy.

Winter Speaks Memories

Days of winter forever speak
their loss in endless deep.
Wind grips the skin
as if by the hand of the mind—
memories not forgotten.

Empty days pass through
the hourglass of life.
Figures never stay—
words never penetrate.
My soul’s skin stretched much too thin
like the sleepless nights that seem
to never end.

Endless in the sea
of depression— never breaking.
But, as sunlight breaks the clouds
It touches my skin.
And new memories begin to grip
My mind.
Faded memories of sunlight,
not so dark.

The days of winter forget to speak,
About the days away from endless deep.

Photo by Lukas Budimaier on Unsplash

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21 Replies to “Winter Speaks Memories”

  1. I adore the imagery of this. Depression is a kind of inner winter that can seem endless but always remember Camus” in the depths of winter i found within an invincible summer.” One gives birth to the other if our souls can endure. We too are part of nature and all of its cycles and we too much endure the wintering in our soul in order to deepen as both spiritual and earthly beings. x

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This is a wonderful poem that I can really connect to. Thank you so much for sharing it with me. You are a good poet. Please post some more. I would love to hear them.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your prose take my breath away. I apologize for not getting that project to you, I am now on vacation and will get something to you as soon as possible. Hugs, brother. ❤

    Like

    1. Thank you. I recently started writing poetry for my class and this is one of the few poems that I really spent a long time on. It’s a classic for me. I am not great at this poetry thing.

      Like

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