Kiss of death, Spark of hope

The battle of dark and light continues.

The time between the Winter Solstice and Imbolc is a time where I am ending the long period of examining darkness. In fact, its is probably the most intense period… a true moment of uncomfortable transformation that can send me into the depths of despair as I start cracking the seed-shell and grasping for some space to call my own. Space to root. Space to heal. Space to dream.

At this time I am perhaps not the easiest to be around, preferring to hold onto what little energy I have for myself. Spring will soon be on its way, and yet the the icy touch of Lady Winter is felt more keenly then every. She breaths sharply on any exposed skin, reminding me that, like the seedling, i am still vulnerable. Still mortal. Still deep. Her silence…