You don’t realize how much you take for granted
the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day,
until you stand outside on a December morning, or night,
and try to stop yourself from shaking
because of the unbelievable cold of winter,
as it works its way into your bones, and effects everything:
from the lucidity of your thoughts, to the clarity of your sight;
you don’t realize how fortunate you are to be able to go inside your home,
lock your front-door behind you, turn the heating on-
until you see a homeless person on the street, who has nowhere else to go,
who you then read about days later died
because of their exposure to the bitter cold:
a life that once meant something, but now was no more- gone.

Winter seems to always strike with a shock-wave;
every winter is different than the one before;
I would swear that the winters were getting worse,
however I think I will reserve judgement on that statement
until the snow and the temperature falls to the levels of my childhood:
one year, in which, my parents, my sister, and myself,
couldn’t even leave our house-
the snow was so deep we couldn’t even open the front-door.
Winter can a beautiful, but also a painful, time of the year-
it can be a season of giving, but also one of taking;
winter can be a season of great joy,
but also one when old wounds start aching.

This time of the year means something to me, it always has, it always will;
this time of the year means taking care of yourself,
and taking care of your loved ones in every way possible
by freeing them of the chill in the air that can cause them to fall ill.
This time of the year can leave a mark on you that can stay with you,
as the seasons pass from one to another-
one that never heals properly, that sticks around like a splinter.
However, the sun rises again, the warmth returns to the air,
and, in time, we remember what it all means,
and why all things need to change and move on,
and why it is important that for every summer
there must be a winter.