Winter/Gone

It was still winter. Underneath the frost grew the promise of warmth, summer, growth, spring. I remembered when I wished away the winter in desperation for the spring. This chill had sprung a feeling of restlessness. Eager to banish off a time, any time, in the search of newness. This was what spring held. In every culture there must be a time of beginning, and I know we had many. Spring to me was more changing, held more prosperity than the beginning of a new year even. But when it comes I feel like cowering away. More light. More time spent outside. Less hiding. We all need time to rest. The winters chill leaves time for replenishment and staying close by. I will not wish you away winter, for the trees need their break and the flowers need their sleep. I need my break and I need my sleep. Truly the seasons were blessed upon us, reminders of time in the only way it matters. Growth and rest, light and dark. Newness and right-now-ness. I move between the seasons the same way you would see an iris or a crocus do. Rising and falling with the sunlight and moving with the breeze. The winter was never truly gone, only in remission, only in hibernation itself.