Winter

So, what does Nature and Her Winter suggest? that death is but a sleep before a refreshing showery sunny new awakening that each resting kernel of being is a blossom again to come forth perennials of form with lofting scents and beguiling evolving textures no soil can ever fully contain nor rising smoke of briers be anything less than Freedom Breaths released seeking dawns of experience souls en-route to still ampler bliss having been de-shelled freed from stifling encumbering filters I think Winter as much the good messenger as it is the Grim Reaper I think Winter as much the cold and still as it is the ceaseless heart of birthing warmth flakes of color never straying too far from their green leafy patterns we travel inherent veins sensing our own blood pulsing there-in and out blushing and unfolding fond ripeness every flower brought forth a new universe to freshly sniff and dream every bee and speck of pollen an extender-finger pointing toward an even greater God