lux brumalis

winter garden of night.

early 2021.

i.

at the end of my life's path
there's a road of white cotton
soft under my step, 
i walk down this road, slowly, carefully
watching the snow paint the earth
the ghostly shade of ivory
i let the evening guide me,  
to my final destination
my body light as light, - floating
as winter approaches me
in the form of a white bloodied fox
stopping me, halfway before the end
of this lonely walk.
in full attention i open my eyes
and kneel before this stranger
waiting for the answers
of questions i have not asked
from thoughts i didn't yet think
but feel i must know them
under the benevolent night - the greatest witness, 
to crimes i may have committed 
that brought me here and now.

ii.

winter's a whisper, 
a speckled voice over the land
taking the shape of dead animals
who have yet to know of requiem. 
this fox told me of my journey,
and what i find after the end
"a garden", winter said
"softly dressed in veils of lilac, as the forest deepens to welcome you in." 

i asked of my sins
will the garden be up in purple flames
ready to engulf my body
with burning chains?
it giggled at me 
"darling girl, what sins?"
you did not fail the world, it failed you
in the garden the tenderness
you so much crave
will be given, 
and what was denied to you in life
will be plenty in that forest
despair and alienation have ended
accept that your new home, like a mother,
will take care of you
worry not, here, take in the sweetness 
of the flowers
and how the snow there has been stained
by the petals of a violet
and how once in a while
it might snow purple
because they decided they are lovers
and the earth needs a little love.
worry not, child, the road is yours again
the garden awaits you, and i with it.

iii.

i blinked to catch a single drop falling in the snow
winter went away leaving no traces 
except a crimson stain
the putrid smell of the fox was replaced 
by the coolness of ice
the road and i became one 
and our path was lonely again.

i came into my senses
to witness how the moon shone differently
as if light had transmuted into a lighter shape of light 
an orb of pale colors, adorned with an invisible crown of mist
glowing through a fragmented piece of glass
marking the entrance to another plane

it took me no effort to take the first step
neither did the next, neither did the last
until light and mist came undone
to give life to a humid soil
being sunk as i walked 
leaving prints of my soles 
as fossil-proof of my flesh existence 
in this new realm of high trees 
and rose-scented breeze.

iv.

winter came back to me as an owl 
flying around me as if to announce my arrival
gathering animals beside us 
to witness the fall of the lilac blizzard
veiling the soft, eerie land
the garden flowered a new path 
of golden ghost-flowers to lead me in
a step closer to my home, my resting place
my tomb-like bed reclaimed by hungry vines
here, i, reborn - have never felt more peaceful, stilled my immortality
i have been given a fresh pair of eyes
to see all with a shade more lovingly 
what death has presented me with.