I was so struck by this poem from Dax Christopher that I had to re-blog it.
Originally posted on aliisaacstoryteller:
Justice in Winter (The Goddess of Wind and Rain)
Deep in the woods off a long, winding road, and finding no reasons for where she now lay
Was a broken young woman half buried in snow, just married, half clothed in torn rags and the gray
Of the season that later would prey on her heart and remain there until she had seen her last day.
Dismayed eyes spoke of betrayal and hurt and had frozen, uncertain of why she was slain
In a portrait of ice and without any warning, but morning would yield all the answers she’d need.
If only she’d known of the meeting of late she might not have died there under the tree.
But as is often the case, we see everything clearer in the mirror when everything’s done and behind us.
When life gets too warm and cozy it goes without notice until something…
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