As I sit and watch the rain fall cold to the ground, splattering on icy souls, I comb through the darkness of life.
Finding strands of hope and shards of glittering light as the comb rakes through the lingering thoughts of yesterday’s history bringing forth new life.
The once red, yellow, and orange leaves that crunched in a symphony of sound are now silent reminders of my own past.
Reflections are reformed into silence; just as these leaves fall silent in the cold rain.
Decay set forth, once rampant for no cause, now nourishes new fertile ground.
Glimpses of what could have been were not gleanings of what should have been.
All have dreams and solutions, yet the tangles that pull us back into darkness need a strong comb and stronger spirit.
Ice and snow may cover the ground in a blanket of protection, yet there is still life underneath those layers of cold.
Vibrant aromas wait for the warmth of sun to rise up and fill our lives with passion.
Rich hues of hope wrap roots firmly grounded in truisms and reality.
No longer will weeds bring forth their destruction as they too find warmth with winter’s blanket.  
Unfurl locks of shimmering light, whether they are blonde, red, brown or black let them flow across tear stained cold rosy cheeks.
Flush across pursed lips are tassels of the past.
I must regress and say that some tangles are too tight, too painful for the steel will of man to overcome.
Knotted bundles of history will need to be cut from the darkness in order for new growth to be warmed by the future.
Life, insulated from the cold, brings the hope of a warmer tomorrow that can always manage today’s past.
However, some tangles just curl into beautiful rivulets of light reflecting strong on my snow covered winter.
So as you brush back your past, be aware of the snares and tangles that stand in the way of the comb as life grows stronger.

Rb 12-10-08 ©