Vermillion

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She looks so dull in winter,
perhaps it’s because there is no light
to capture the light
that burns within her…
If the sun could burst through the storm,
you’d see her colors are warm,
her maternal force burning strong on the worn book of old-golden song.

She fades but does not wither,
for in her heart sparks of hope
spark more hope
while shadows taunt and chase her…
If the moon could ignite, the last ember of passion
love for love’s sake would be all the fashion,
her glow returning once again on painted skies of vermillion.

~Christine Wichman c. January 13, 2019