The wind howls and the trees bend to submission as the spring sleeps far beneath the heavy winter snow that deeply covers the frozen ground. The bare limbed trees look old and tired as the smoke from the burning fire escapes the chimney. Color is absent here but for the spotting of the deep green pines that dot the mountainside and the snowy white covered ground. Old man winter is tired and wishes to sleep but the cycle of the earth’s movement will not yet surrender.
I gather wood, it sustains the warmth of the dwelling in which I reside. It is a symbol of the circle of life as each piece represents a life lived, taken to serve, then returns once again in yet another form. I really have nothing pressing to attend to on these cold spring days, therefore I have extended time to prosper in the silence of my mind and in the space that surrounds me. The solitude is heavy here, even the cat that fears human contact realizes the benefits of companionship in this isolated backdrop.
In due time the spring will waken to the thaw and the mud will give way to a glorious summer palette. In the space of present mind thinking I will be led to a thought that will give way to a dream that I will venture to follow. Spring in Vermont will be the birthplace of my future, one that I hope will grant me the knowledge to find a mission, to serve, to learn and to grow.
|
|
|
| Continue Reading | |
|
|
moondreamerpublishing.com © 2015
