The Winter of my Soul
By Nolo Segundo

The winter of my soul was in the spring called youth

when I danced and sang and played the fool,

when I could care for no one really, not even

for myself---

certainly not for the soul I could not see within,

not could I see the souls of others….

That was the harshest winter, though snowless

and without a frigid air yet dead was the ground

I walked on, dead too was my heart as I moved

through the world like an orphan abandoned,

abandoned by hope and faith and love,

till Death itself smiled at me and called my name

and I went to it because I could not see my soul.

But in that utter darkness where death hides,

hides like a coward,

and in that pain beyond pain that death brings

to those who seek it,

I, like the blind man whom Christ gave sight to,

suddenly knew again my soul and as I called out

to God,

I began the hard long climb out of the pit towards

the eternal Light….

Now I have lived through 300 seasons as birth

and death dance in their turn, and time I once

rode like a prince his horse now rides my back,

pushing me down bit by bit as the years pile up

like burnt logs that will never be lit again…

yet I am happy, not for old age with all its

myriad slights and insults, and not for that

unfinished part which I suppose is found in

every life, even the longest-- no, my happiness

is simpler, sweeter now that my world has

shrunk, for my soul has grown and as it grows,

becomes ever more hungry for the food of

Heaven….