In each bare branched winter we lay our heads
on a silver pillow of feathered seams….
waiting for the dormant season to change.
We, in winter’s chill, sow cataloged seeds into the
earthy furrows of our buried dreams.
And, in quiet, frosted solitude…….
welcome the frozen snow
as our snugly blanket of comfort…
Resting in faithful trust….
Knowing
that spring
comes.
Always!
1 comment:
How utterly beautiful, Joye. The picture, yes, but your words are, too. Thank you for sharing your multiple gifts! ;)
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