Slipping into Solitude

The early signs of winter are upon me. I sense the cold breezes. This season...once again. I have to decide whether I should hold out until the chill numbs my essence or if I should retreat before the pain is more than I can bear. I look upon that steaming water once again. I see it. I smell it. It's heat calls me nearer. I can see the leaves are turning brown. Heralding the death of winter. I crave it. I crave the caressing waters of solitude. I slip in. Its heat sends screams through my body. It hurts. It scalds. Will it ever end? Soon, my nerves adjust. Solitude, once again I bathe in your protection. I would not wait until the winter pierced my very soul. I would not wait until the oak tree, the willow, and the maple bed adieu. I would not wait for the green of friendship to completely desert their leaves. I smelled the early autumn and I ran to your warmth. Yes, at first you feel more like pain, but I know better. I knew that the pain would subside. I knew that the colder I was the more it would hurt. I left the autumn. I left the oak, the maple, the willow. I left them before they left me. I ran to you sweet solitude. I cannot stay forever. Your warmth, like all seasons, will pass. Should I stay until you are look warm and the summer leaves spring green from tender branches, I would surely die. For now, I submerge my head and let your heat run over me. Mixing tears with solitude. Until the oak, the willow, and the maple come once again. Until the come, perhaps in different form, until they come again.