Just Before Spring

The world seems darkest, as winter lingers on, throwing her shawl of white over the shoots that dare peep out. The gray seems to have overtaken the sun, and the world is bereft of joy.

Teasel rattling in the wind, dry, brittle, a left over of the summer before.

We go on each day, in faith that another follows, that there will be light, that summer returns, and there is no Never-Ending Winter.

Finally the sun will return, and warmth, and happiness.