To January, Spring is a mocking dream
To Death, Life is an idiot’s tale
To the Blind, the Sun is a solar heater
To the Heartless, Love is a fool’s game
So once was I
Interred
Cruel, sightless
Winter’s daughter
Grave-clothed
Stumbling into the Light
Glorious
Who called my name
And it was no dream
It was Life.