My dear winter, you called me saying that you’ll keep me warm under your sheets, that your walls will mould themselves around me. You said your hills are silent and no one will even dare to speak.
Dear winter, I thought I came to forget but I came only to remember more. You wrapped me in all those missing thoughts, you opened doors to places I have long time left behind and I can only go back if I go within.
My dear winter, you brought the few old people on the road I walked. Their wrinkled hands touched my frozen cheeks, their tears grew rivers that flow and carry more pain.
You showed me how trees that guarded my childhood games, have fallen dead and how old benches have now stories but no more people.
My dear winter, you showed me the depts of my roots, old songs curled around my branches.
You left the sun to break the cold, you gently danced the forest, you kept me still under a ceiling of stars, you sent the moon to watch my sleep from behind the curtains. You painted my nights with dreams, my days with childhood.
Dear winter, you brought life into stories that were dusty.
My dear winter, my dear old friend.