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

identity.

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

new life.

Savoring the newness of springs dance of love and the

restless yearning of Tweener thoughts.

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