There's not much to find these days. Just a few branches posed perfectly against the sky. There's not much to call beautiful these days. Just a cluster of of berries on the silver maple, curled upwards, seeking.
But it's the new year and when we look about and see nothing, we see it as all that is left at the turning point. I love these branches. I really do.
Please forgive me the indulgence, but this new year, as the clock turned us over into another fresh expanse, I felt it pulse with the hearts of three (3) loved ones....struggling in their respective hospital beds. Forgive me the indulgence, but I love these branches trying to make it through winter.
I haven't found anything definitive in joy except that however much I feel it, so too do I sense the heartbeat of sorrow. Today, as this fine new year begins I feel this duality...it is palpable, it is beautiful, and it is coursing through me like the perfectly entwined love affair of deep roots and deeper waters.