Accustomed to the Warmth

Pacific waters glitter
with sparkling emeralds,
dazzling diamonds,
bronze feet amble
through bleached white sugar sands,
brown eyes watch palm trees sway
in a Tahitian dance.

I was accustomed to the warmth,
a stranger to the cold,
when Fate carried me on her wings
to a distant place
(could it have been Faith)
where winter has a stake
for an eternal tenure.

I brave the numbness
in the cold,
await the return
of lambent green hours,
the embrace
of pale, quivering shoulders
once again.

Through frost and wind
and lashing rain,
rebirths of grass,
while lost in palettes of sunsets
and variable
shades of dawn,
I have grown

accustomed to the warmth,
familiar with the cold,
as seasons weave the mottled
tapestries of life,
brown eyes watch pine trees stand:
stalwart guards of each passing
full-orbed year.

by D. G. Vachal © 2012-2013

...revised version of “Accustomed to the Warmth”, 2012

Photography:   1). Ka Olina Palm Trees by D. G. Vachal
                        2). Morning  Picture with Harmonious Pines by Archimond @ Flickr Commons