"Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this son of York; "

Shakespeare's often misunderstood opening line from Richard III tells the reader that the winter of discontent has now been made glorious by the ascension to the throne of a son of the Duke of  York.  Poor winter.  All the seasons have baggage, but winter's is a heavier load to bear, at least for those of us in the colder climates, colder shorter days with little variation in the landscape.  So before we move into our glorious days, a look back to winter.

"I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind"  

~~ Thistles and Weeds, Mumford and Sons

I know, it is spring, but listening to this song on this dark and rainy day reminded me of a poem I had written and many more I had read regarding the supposed clarity of wintertime.  I think these lyrics are beautiful and obviously open to myriad interpretations.  I am going for the metaphorical winter as well as the literal winter.

Clarity

~~jkreed

Burnt umber leaves

Shriveling on this branch

Symbolize all that is lost

All that has gone undone

A valiant attempt now past.

The first leaf wafting to the ground before me

Bears away my last hopes of summer

Preparing me for the road ahead

A baron landscape

Through which my thoughts move freely

Unencumbered by frilliness.

Winter Trees
~~William Carlos Williams

All the complicated details

of the attiring and

the disattiring are completed!

A liquid moon

moves gently among

the long branches.

Thus having prepared their buds

against a sure winter

the wise trees

stand sleeping in the cold. 

 

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174773

Lines for Winter

Lines for Winter

~~Mark Strand

Tell yourself

as it gets cold and gray falls from the air

that you will go on

walking, hearing

the same tune no matter where

you find yourself—

inside the dome of dark

or under the cracking white

of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.

Tonight as it gets cold

tell yourself

what you know which is nothing

but the tune your bones play

as you keep going. And you will be able

for once to lie down under the small fire

of winter stars.

And if it happens that you cannot

go on or turn back

and you find yourself

where you will be at the end,

tell yourself

in that final flowing of cold through your limbs

that you love what you are.