Winter's part

It is the simplicity that endears this season to the heart weathered to love the part winter plays in the year: clear of spring adornment, of summer or fall festoon, winter is color- quiet and petalfree, remote of sun, with coldmetal moon. It is wise-open to new meanings: its gleanings rest at nadir, cupped: its stern virtues cradle the nascent now: now is the time for fireplace glow within, paw-print snow without; for slow thaws and raw freeze, for crunch and drift and hidden life; now is the time to treasure covenant skies and Euclidean trees beauty-bare in a zero-welded air that holds fruit-tending buds from untimely breaking.

Making no wish for another, better season, now is the time to measure deep through the woods the horizon's bright raven, patient on the wing; to cling to and savor this sabbath of the seasons as haven, as stave - the year's nimbus, nexus, nidus, nave.

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