Winter did not leave.

It loosened.

 

Cold still rested in the ground.

Snow stayed where it was needed.
Ice remembered its shape.

Nothing hurried.

 

Light arrived differently.

Not brighter—
longer.

It touched,
then waited.

 

Weather began to move again.

Gently.

Warmth tested the air
and pulled back.

Cold answered
and held.

 

The forest felt the shift.

Roots listened below the frost.
Branches held still above it.

Between them,
space opened.

 

Water remembered how to travel.

Not fast.
Not far.

Just enough
to find its way.

 

Across the forest,
sounds aligned.

A drip matched a wing.
A breath matched a step.

Nothing sang.

Everything fit.

 

The light balanced itself.

Shadow did not disappear.
It stayed close.

Neither moved ahead.

 

THE TURNING QUIET

Equal Day arrived.

Light and dark
met

without pushing.

 

Weather shifted.

Not all at once.

In turns.

Warmth stepped forward.
Cold followed.

The balance tipped
and held.

 

Inside the forest,
years waited.

Trees did not reach.
They did not rush.

They stood
ready.

 

Some were small
and felt the light first.

Some were tall
and felt the air change.

Some had many rings
and felt the shift deeply.

All felt it.

 

Spring did not arrive.

It continued.

 

Water moved again.
Light stayed longer.

Wind passed through
without pressing.

 

The forest loosened its hold.

Not on time—
on stillness.

 

When the year was ready to close,
the trees listened.

Weather finished speaking.

Rings formed.

 

Spring continued.

The forest stayed

ready.