i see stubborn old leaves clinging to snow-covered branches outside my window.
their organic tethers binding them to the sleeping god that birthed them
used them to feed itself
refuses to let them be free
sometimes i wonder
if i am the leaf
or the tree.
hibernation in a hyper nation
restlessly wishing for action
when i can burst forth into new life
emerging from my confining seed
blooming out in the wake of incubation
eventually succumbing to the long-needed rest
no longer fighting the dormancy
no longer fearing the waste of frozen sunlight
loving the sweet nothingness of slumber.