Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

First touch ~

Frost you touched my cheek
Icy hot then cold.

A long slow tingling, 
on skin of Autumn gold.

Leaves of many shapes
dusted in your drift.

Icy leaves mingle
ensnared by your gift.

A winter prelude 
to the forest's first glow.

Has warmed my cheek
with thoughts of sweet snow.