It is true,
Winter feels like a sentence of death upon my soul.
I watch the earth go to sleep, I think of the death that is necessary for life to come.
And I wait. I wait. I pine. I wait.
The earth thaws. It sighs, it shifts.
And then, just as the fullness of hope comes in the Resurrection,
so does a new breath of life come when the earth bursts forth into green.
I sigh, I shift.
I realize that death is necessary for life, that winter–cold and dark–makes spring so sweet.
I am a child resurrected, a child of the spring.