Wednesday, January 29, 2014

the spell begins to break

 

Can you hear it?

The unmistakable sound of a million branches snapping back into position after the weight of their ice-glaze has shattered. The loud rain falling from the wet burden of the trees. The silent gray world is suddenly roaring with sound—even the birds whistle louder when the rays of sunshine fall on their wings for the first time in weeks. Gray bursts into sparkling diamond-silver and I can see green in the pine trees. And look—I even have a shadow again.

icyicy2icy4icy3

The sky. It’s blue. The sun. It’s there. My soul feels alive for the first time in many long, dismal days.

They say Aslan is on the move.

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