Beauty and life found in a winter’s dismal cold rains

“In winter, when the dismal rain comes down in slanting lines, and wind, that grand old harper, smote his thunder-harp of pines.”
Alexander Smith

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Psalm 19:1

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And for those who have not choice but to be outside, it’s time to hunker down. . .

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My neighbors two horses bear up, or down, under the dismal weather.
When it gets too terribly cold or snow and ices, she does put on their coats.
The horses are probably 25 years old, and when you see one, you see the other–always together in tandem. Today they looked much as I have felt.
Supposedly the sun is to make its appearance tomorrow. It will be the first time in several weeks. None too soon may I add as I think man, beast and fowl can all benefit from a little sun!!
Here’s to sunny days ahead and thoughts of the coming Spring. . .

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(a collection of images from the yard: rain drops, a tufted titmouse, a bluebird, and a pair of forlorn horses / Julie Cook / 2015)

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
Ecclesiastes 3:11

To sleep, but to dream; to wake but to yearn

“I dreamt — marvellous error! — that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.”
― Antonio Machado

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
William Shakespeare

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(the beads of tiny rain drops appear as pearls upon a spider’s web / Julie Cook / 2015)

Routed out of slumber’s silent realm
waking in the harsh dark reality of that what was,
for was, was but a dream. . .

Again the dream, each time is different
Yet the meaning and emotion quite the same
To be. . .
Embraced
Enveloped
Loved completely

It may not be you
but it is some form of you
Sadly having never seen you
nor achingly never having known you

But you are there
kind and nurturing. . .
Missing you,
longing to know you
to see you
to feel you
to see your face,
seeing mine

In sleep you are elusive
Seemingly present, yet not.
In waking, you have never existed
Emptiness fills the heart

Fleeting and just out of reach,
Your smile fills the void
To be loved as in the dream,
In the reality of waking,
leaves the heart spent.

Tears fall as the pearls of a broken strand
worn beautifully around your neck
But that I could gather them up
giving them back to you,
pouring them gently into your warm hands
For in the dream, you are warm. . .

Your eyes tenderly enveloping the now grown child
You see nothing negative, just joy
in what stands before you—
How different would it all have been
knowing you?

You remain hidden
In the shadows of a sleeping mist
You are longed for in wakefulness
A haunting specter longed for in
a dream