Winter

I have two pasts. Maybe I have more than two previous lives.One part of my past is as far away as last spring. The other is as close as yesterday's summer. The summer seems richer because there is an abundance of branches. My dad often talked about the importance of branches. No branch is ever thrown away because each branch has a purpose. So, in my small way I have begun a journey of satisfying the heart of one person whom I loved. 

Now, there is winter. A time when all the branches are bare. Their one beauty is the snow that lies on the branches and the trunks. The branches are crooked or straight like arms raise up to the sky.

Excitement grows whenever the orange beauty of one particular tree comes near.  It's near a school. Other colors like yellow and red call to me as we ride around and over the hills of our town.

Winter is a time of  life after death. There is hope buried beneath and behind the red Holly berries. Hope for the old woman or man who feel like they have nothing more to offer. The cardinal calls, and we listen.

Comments

Vicki said…
How beautiful! Love this post!

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