December Dreary and then the Sun; a Poem

Gray, dreary, December’s light wearies – of shining and so it goes, our emotional temperament slows. And we grind to a halt, in the seed of our Souls – our swollen pride goes, receding into the desolate night of winter. A grin turns to stone. Faces made of bone. Cold. Alone. Undone. No fun. No sun, well little. And we belittle ourselves for the depths of our faults. We are barren. We grope in the semi-darkness and chill. There is no thrill.

We, who we are, are unto ourselves. Waiting for merry elves that come not on the 24th but sometime in February when warmth peeks and our emotion speaks of spring. Yet, now we sit where it is dim. Some in joy; some will enjoy. Others will suffer an aloneness of the frigid kind, while many in mankind rejoice and have hope. Glee for some. A sense of despair and doom for others. Life’s unrepentant, inequitable cycle continues. And we work to draw ourselves from a desolate hole, to get whole, to begin again, but when? When?

When, whether, how and again, when? The now of later? The now of now? Or the now that has past, and we knowingly sit with our hearts at half mast, praying for redemption of the eternal kind, to free the inner from the prison of the outer. Shouting, shouting, fighting, fleeing in our heart that has turned dark and full of fear, waiting for a miracle called us.

We must. We must. Continue our life long thrust. Through the night. Through the fright. Unmasked and undone, though our hearts are frayed they beat still strong. This cannot be wrong. We know, in a place deeper than the marrow of our bones that a dawn of joy awaits us, as long as we can bear the chill, the darkness and the sadness of our fragility.

We are human. At times we laugh. At times we cry. At times we look to the heavens and pray to the sky. Yet, the answer is within. In us. Without us. From before time. From before the essence of matter. If we accept the joy of life, we can diminish this existential strife. And smile a warm smile once more!

Je t’adore mon amour! I open my heart and open the door – to possibility and the sun, again!!

Image courtesy of [arztsamui] /

*Authors note: You might see this column pop up online in a newspaper, under the name Both Sides. I am publishing this column here first at For a bunch of years, I have been writing newspaper columns. Since my columns have received a good response on CYInterview, I thought I would share it with you. Hope you enjoy.

You can reach me with your questions and comments at Like today’s column? Check back frequently.