Blue time, my favorite time, I bid thee farewell.
On winter mornings, you beckon me, urging me to breathe deeply at first light,
for it is in your beguiling beauty that I find the courage to face the frigid day.
In the evenings, you swallow me, wrapping me in your intensity.
And as always, you summon me to the window.
I follow, hypnotized, your magic glow bending me at the knees.
I shout, "Blue time!" to anyone who will listen
And we all look, no matter where we are in the house,
grateful for the pause that links us to our intrinsic realm,
appreciative of the gift you are to our lives.
And yet, as much as I love you, and my love for you is deep,
I am ready to leave you behind.
I am eager to exchange you
for the hope that lies in a springtime sky,
the promise that's held in a whisper of green,
the potential that lives in a shock of blossoms,
and the assurance that thrives in a magpie's nest.
Until next winter, when you will be strong again--rest well, my friend.
And so will I.