Between Winter and Spring

The warming Sun of mid-afternoon brightly shines over the fertile lands. New grass, of such a bright green that defies the very definition of the color mixed with the brown and ochres of dead leaves.

The oranges and lemons are ripe on their evergreen leafy homes, while the rest of the gardens are still in the long sleep, in the apparent death of Winter. There is silence… birds have still not come back.

Since my forced exile deprived me of my own little parcel of Nature, I have grown restless. Grey have been my days, cold my nights. For many weeks, clouds crowned the sky, and the Sun and Moon remained unheeded. I took refuge in my own self, the only thing remaining to me that no one can take away.

But even Darkness has an end. Like the new leaves growing in the old roses, like the nascent buds and flowers that blossom on the peach trees. The growing warmth of the new season follows the chilling cold of the dying one. Soon, in a moon or so, full spring will overtake this realm of long nights and short days.

I wish I could have such a bright prospect for myself… my future is still uncertain. I feel like a tree that has been unrroted. But today… today I take confort that the first signs of spring have arrived. Like a welcome sunrise after a long Night, I greet the renewal of Life.

A blue and golden sky, in a clear August afternoon… somewhere near Buenos Aires. Who would have thought that this very simple moments of peace would become a treasure so prized. My heart yearns for simple times, for the clear flame shining in the night to honor the Gods.  I miss the secure warmth of the root and the home. I miss the freedom of choice. I miss the simple joys, the hope of a better day tomorrow.

As I transit this “in between” period of my life, I fear to lose my way in the gray mists of an undefined present. But She has deemed pertinent that I walk this path like the Hermit, with only the Lamp of my inner flame to guide me. No auguries to pre-view the road. No omens to avert the little dangers.

Where is this road taking me? I do not know. And the Fear of Not-Knowing is a great Shadow to face before me. The threads of the weave remain unseen, and the pattern is like a distant memory. But I shall not fall, I shall not fail. For good or Ill, I am commited to the Path, and I will transcend this darkness of my own limitations.

From somewhere in Argentina, in perfect love and perfect trust, I leave you my best wishes.

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