Dreary days, sleet, and cold rain give
premise to the reality that the tentacles
of winter still wish to strangle the life of
the beauty that is spring.
I sit up close to the now raging fire and watch
the flames dance as if in celebration.
The cold of the wooden floors permeates from
my feet as if osmosis transports the chill to every
cell in my body.
Tweener days of spring. Winters last grasp on the
the new beginnings that bring life within the sun.
My hands are cold as I warm them over the stove
and think of the tweener life.
Somewhere a young adolescent struggles with their
Neither a child nor a teenager, they seek their own existence.
Within that same mindset, the winters of my past and the
sun of my future split and leave a void in my present.
The well spring of new beginnings beckons me patience.
I light a candle, vanilla, and inhale the past once again.
New beginnings, tweeners, love lost, love to gain.
Soon the sun will warm the mornings of my life and once
again the palette of colors will flood my mind and etch
permanent memories on my soul.
But for now, I am learning tweener thoughts, tweener
feelings; the hot and cold of days mixed up.
An intriguing time of life I must say. A time of gleaning
between the cold of winters last breath and the coming of
the summer of my love.
Tweener? I would rather tween between silken soft legs of
Savoring the newness of springs dance of love and the
restless yearning of Tweener thoughts.