As the earth falls into a deep slumber, we sit in anticipation and stillness. The cold touches our lips, frosting our breath, bracing us for the chill of winter's stay.
Though we know it's only temporary, it is something we must endure. For death must first come, before any great awakening.
Death to the dainty flower that blossomed through the summer.
Death to the leaf that withered and fell away.
Silence grips the ongoing tale,
mesmerized by the ticking of time, and rhythm of decay.
Nothing can stop it.
We know our own mortality all too well.
Death to life.
Death to sin.
Death to self.
Before we reach our end.
But then, hope emerges.
For He breathes across the land, the warmest embrace, while whispering our name.
Immeasurable light penetrates the deepest crevices of the coldest heart. New awakenings emerge. Life is born...again. We watch in awe and wonder.
There's coming a new day.
And nothing can stop it.
So, we wait.
And we listen.
Photos by Mitzi Pierce.