of light and lily

Yesterday was a miasma of grey, and this morning I woke up to a sugar-coated winter wonderland, filled with the fresh scent that only comes with a newly-fallen snow.

I watch the sun rise from behind a crosshatch of bare branches, and a bluebird lands on a snow-capped birdhouse.

Just as quickly, he is gone.

By this afternoon, the glittery blanket will have melted back into earth. Just beneath the surface everything is shifting, changing, washing itself clean.

Everything in this life is fleeting, happiness and sadness, light and dark, sunshine and lilies. It all cycles through in its own good time, despite our best attempts to crack the code that will slow things down, or speed them up.

A lily will open when it is ready to fill the air with perfume. The sun will shine when it has finished talking to the clouds, your heart will find something to smile about when the weeping has run its course.

These are the truths that I have learned.

This morning I stand here breathing in the scent of snow and lily, trying to hold onto them even as I know that I must exhale.

But for a moment, my lungs are filled with light and love and aliveness.

And, of course, that is enough.

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