Surrounded by clouds and coolness,
Cocooned in silence and winter,
Separated from the warm sun,
What lies waiting, gestating in darkness,
Protected by the dry brown leaf layer,
Ready to burst forth into life?
This is not death;
these somber, drab, darkened days are not
the end of joy and color:
Here is rest, repose, an enforced quieting,
a time to drop it all and deepen,
to listen and reflect.
Nurtured by the water of life,
cradled by the earth,
Our spirits grow wise.
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