Wintersmith- Michael Erickson

We’ve stepped through a celestial gate,

And now tread upon Winter’s threshold.

With a breath and prayer we wait,

To see if his glacial eyes will open.

One can hear his chill breath,

Faint within the depths of his sleep.

But lo, he will awaken,

And begin his long and winding road.

Toss in a hope that we may not be impeded,

For he will walk our path with us.

But do not be deceived by his sleeping taunts,

Flurries may tease us but so quickly do they become storms.

And more then just frost follows him,

So let us walk in silence beneath an illuminated night sky.


Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.

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