Of Lace and Promises

lace and promises

I stand among the stillness of the trees,
Wind-swept, barren.
The lace of the branches held up to the sky
Wait for the promise of snow and ice to cleanse them.
Buds already formed wait for the warmth and blessing of a warmer sun to awaken them in Spring.
They stand as sentinels, reminders that all things come and all things pass away.

But the light remains to pass through them.

Delicate branches, how can they withstand the coming storm?
But they do.
They stand tall in the freezing rain to be blanketed with snow, reaching toward heaven,
To receive the eternal blessing of the sun without judgement,
Offering a perch for the starlings that rest.

In their gratitude they sing, a cacophony of sound,
Celebrating the cold, the wind, the ice and snow.
All is well. All is joy. All is love.

Feeling the cold wind tightening the skin on my face,
I give myself permission to accept winter’s blessing,
And let myself be cleansed too,
The cold wind blowing away the fiery thoughts of anger, resentment and fear.

Here I stand, with the trees, laid bare,
Being cleansed and scoured,
Prepared for new growth.

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