The same God who designed the sun's predictable arc across the seasons also designed me—a creature who needs light to thrive. He built the solution into creation itself: the promise that darkness never gets the final word. Even at its peak on the Winter Solstice, the night immediately begins to lose ground. The light always returns.
winter blues
Day 22: Barely Breathing – When Winter Winds Wake You Up
The winter winds whip in and out of my cracked screen door... So alive in spite of me. Everything I haven't touched yet, touches me, knows me if only for an instant. A dark season poem about feeling alive despite depression.
Writer's Growth 