In the Dead of Winter

Raw open longing like a

Baby bird nests in my

Soul.

Forgiving is easy if you

forget it all and become

absolutely

nothing. But the longing increases with the nothingness until you must become something or else

you’ll burst!

Unfold and unflower, then, in the mid-September when all around you are those

Closing up shop for the coming winter. Dare

To stand unfolded in the dead of winter.

Listen.

Stillness is the first step to meaning then

Out of the nothing springs a hope

Not from the mind of man but from the soul of God speaking

“Child, child, child, child.”

He whispers.

Eyes closed you believe.

Eyes open you see the blank void of whiteness

that comes

Only in the dead of winter.

Don’t close your petals because of what you see

There is more than all this nonchalance and apathy

Color splashes color in the dead of winter but

All the colors are red.

Stained with sin.

A blizzard washes white again.

White fades to white, but now

A glistening ice sculpture has encased your frozen petals.

Silence.

Forgiveness is one frost-melted morning away.

When the Sun comes He warms all things.

Slowly you die, slowly you rise.

You had forgotten how much you loved the Sun

But He has never, never forgotten you.

Awake! Arise!