I look out my bedroom window early each morning. The trees are barren, like skeletons standing tall, a season of death, life is nowhere to be found.
The trees stand guard like soldiers, unwavering, holding true to their purpose.
A foggy mist fills the hollar and the trees are barely visible.
Each morning is different. Each morning I draw open the blinds, not knowing what will be laid out before me.
I identify with the trees
When the howling winds blow I can hardly endure the pressure. I feel weak
I cannot go on anylonger
The icy cold, unbearable at times, I long for warmth, for protection
Where are the leaves that clothe me in fairer times?
The fog so sick I cannot see, I am confused, disoriented, lost
Until one day the fog lifts, the cold departs and once again
Bursting forth with life, I am stronger!
Thank you wind for strengthening me
Thank you cold for deepening my roots
Thank you fog, for greater clarity
Wisdom and truth my companions