This poem speaks to my soul tonight. I've been feeling the frigid-ness, while it is a lovely 70 degrees outside.

Moods can just confirm how complex man can be switching between all forms seamlessly as night dawns to day and day dusks to night. 
Cheers
My upvote is worth close to nothing, so I would rather resteem this beautiful piece great job @johnjegeddes

I like your poem though I am finding what is really means. Poems give out different meaning to the reader.
Will you kindly tell me what brings this out?
Thanks.

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Here in Ottawa I did not knap a flint but I did take a nice long nap. Freezing rain all day. The Power is soon to go out. I will stay in bed tomorrow.

Estoy de acuerdo con cada uno de los versos de este poema, mi muy estimado @johngedes. Así como la naturaleza crea huracanes, inviernos, tormentas, primaveras; así también el hombre. Las palabras y las acciones son capaces de sembrar fenómenos que a veces somos incapaces de controlar. Una palabra no dicha en su momento, una mirada, puede crear grandes grietas, abismos que somos incapaces de cruzar. Para las tormentas naturales habrá una casa donde guarecerse, pero ante las humanas, ¿cuál espacio sirve de refugio, cuales brazos te sirven de cobijo, cuál mirada te sirve de amparo? Quedamos a la intemperie con el corazón expuesto. Hagamos entonces de la palabra una puerta, un puente, una casa. Te abrazo siempre.

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I like your poetry I could really find the meaning. Poetry is paid to the reader.
Would you please tell me how it will be done?

Another fine poem, John.  I, too, am ambivalent about moods & physiognomy & such... And, yet, we are susceptible, the inner to the outer.

To people who do not believe in astrology (which I only believe in partly) I say: but look at the influence of the moon on the ocean and we, too, are afterall contained bodies of water...

Back to your poem, nice cross-cross work you do, going back & forth to inscrutable states within/ without & their invisible/indivisible link.

storm are mate matching

Poetry is not needed to write or write beautiful poetry. Your mind is wonderful, the lines of your poetry are alive. I became a fan of your poetry.

They say the flap of a butterfly's wing can affect the weather on the other side of the world and so why not your mood. How ... is the question. Quite enjoyed this philosophical write, John:)