Love What I Receive

In a world of bitter Winter
When matters not be Fall or Spring
There in my heart I hear a whisper
One of tidings that don't sting.

Yet when the whisper fades, recessing
And the cold again invades
I yearn anew for such a blessing
Casting off the memory's aids.

Can I not have a warm embrace?
I ask, forgetting my reprieve.
Can I hold this time my grace
And truly love what I receive?

It's a never-ending sequence
One of my own foolish creations.
I take, destroy, ignore this credence,
Then fade away in my frustrations.

One day soon I'll hold that light
It's ever there in my ignoring.
Maybe admitting first I need it
Is the first step in adoring.