Dear February

By Ivyonna Egan

The days are short and the air is thin,

A quiet time to look within.
Though February feels brief and small,
It holds a weight beyond it all.
It is the bridge between the white,
And the coming of the morning light.
It asks you now to pause your pace,
To find a rhythm, find a grace.

Do not rush toward the budding leaf,
Or treat these winter hours as brief.
Instead, be still and tend the fire,
Set down the weight of high desire.
To care for yourself is not a task,
But shedding every heavy mask,
To listen to what the silence says,
And find the beauty in the greyest days.

Take nothing for granted, not the breath,
That defies the season’s hint of death.
Not the steam that rises from the cup,
Nor the strength it takes to just look up.
Every sunrise is a borrowed thing,
Whether it leads to frost or spring.
Every heartbeat is a steady drum,
Promising that the warmth will come.

Even in the labor and the strain,
There is a purpose in the rain.
Include the work of healing deep,
And promises you mean to keep.
The effort spent to stay aware,
Is just another form of prayer.
The work of growth is often slow,
Hidden beneath the crust of snow.

Wait for the pink of the cherry bloom,
But find the joy inside this room.
For life is found in the smallest seed,
Providing exactly what you need.
Be your own shelter, be your own friend,
On these winding paths where the shadows end.

Love the life that is quiet and slow,
Bless the cold and bless the snow,
For you are here, and you are whole,
With a winter sun inside your soul.