well guarded from the winter;
it has left it in the fireplace
next to the old ashes,
which, forgotten, have remained as a reminder of the cold
without an ornamented ribbon
or needless adornments.
How strange the stone box looked
with its strict grey countenance
dominating the space.
It is always the same gift the earth gives.
What is the need for senseless change
when life’s foundations quake
on hearing the other-worldly winter? …’
From the poem ‘The Fireplace’, by Ioanna Moutsopoulou
Cycle I: The Lost Self
To read the whole poem, please, click here to order the poetry collection ‘Souls of Nature’
(Photograph by wikipaintings)