The Winter BOrn

The Winter Born

A little winter- born baby,

Wrapped in thick blankets

and clothes.

lying atop a castle of hay,

Sheltered

 by old worn tin

Nailed to the rafters of a massive barn.

Quiet murmurs of cows moving about.

The sound of her father

throwing heavy bales over the castle’s sides

filled her infantile ears

and became her favorite music.

The sounds soothed her,

Quieted her soul.

A father.

his rough hands; worn

and scarred

By time,

By work,

By weather,

and yet, they held his little baby

with such gentle love.

that yet, was so immense.

Her father taught her so much.

Things no school could ever teach.

To feel

changes in the weather

before it could be

Seen

to understand and accept

the cycle of life.

Things were hard for them,

but all evils went away

when he read to her at night.

he filled her mind with incredible tales

and encouraged her

to make her own

life just as incredible.

The tales he told were of

Magic,

Love,

Triumph.

He never hindered

her Imagination

her Creativity

her Talents.

He only provided the means

for her to excel.

He quietly complained

of being old

or unattractive

or not good enough as a father.

but the little Winter Born

would smile at him

and all she saw was her Knight

In worn, dented armor.

He was the strongest man.

with both his arms

And his heart.

He protected her.

Taught her.

Loved her.

Carried her through Hell on Earth

To his little Winter born

he was Immortal.

Indestructible.

Incomparable.

his warm eyes

gentle voice

and warm embrace

aoothed her in her most

Terrifying moments.

As she’d cry and tell him

of the demons that clawed at her

he did his best to comfort her

young soul.

He did his

best to protect her

as much as he possibly could,

Even if he wasn't exactly sure how.

She was strong for him when

he couldn't be

just as he’d been her strength for so long.

She was the one to dry his tears a time

or two.

He didn’t want her to see his pain.

He worried it made him seem weak,

But she only saw his strength grow.

The way hers once had.

As time went on

she needed him less and less

but sometimes she saw

the slight pain in his eyes.

Pain from the knowledge

she didn’t need him

to dry her tears anymore.

He didn’t tell her stories any more.

He didn’t tuck her in.

They hardly even hugged anymore.

She was growing up

and he was growing older.

but she always saw him as

young.

Despite the wrinkles growing deeper

and more numerous on his face

or the pain she saw

as he walked in the house

after a long day in the barn

she still saw

an immortal man

as she looked up

 from her school work.

She got up from the table

and walked to her father

as he stood over the kitchen sink.

she wrapped her arms around him,

closed her eyes

buried her face in his chest

and whispered

“I love you, Dad”.

She felt his

strong, familiar arms

wrap around her tightly.

she felt herself relax

as she reveled in the familiar strength

of his arms

she had secretly missed so much.