The day brought sheets of cold icy rain
followed by the steady drumbeat of drops
rhythmically falling with order and purpose.
The sun eagerly sought to shine as the clouds
danced around in glee obscuring the gift of light
that guides our days. A mystical vision of icy vapor
followed as the drops slowed and the light breeze
swirled the growing mass of white to further denude the day.
Dreary is the day, yet alive am I as I place another
log on the fire. The growing warmth of the cabin is
covered with a blanket of frosty fog as I curl up near
the fire and watch the flames dance as though immersed
in great celebration. Thumbing through the pages of
life, I read of passions past and present. I think of
those to come. I like it hot at night with a sense of
mirthfulness that lifts dreary days into hotter nights. The
heat radiates an even flow throughout the room sealing
the dread outside. That is what life’s passion does for us.
Seals the warmth inside and keeps the cold at bay.
It may have been a cold and rainy day, but it sure looks
hot tonight.

Rb.