
In England it will be Spring, which will be wonderful. Like a little whisper to say that everything is alright, the green and growing things will be so comforting to me. Balancing on the edge of Winter, will bitter days and sweet days, snow, sunshine, and changing winds all collide together to finally agree on life and renewal? They always do. Day always follows night, for who could be more loving than the Lord, Whose Laws are reflected in the Laws of Nature, and Who grants us all the help and strength we need to ascend, so long as we ask for it. Such perfect Love I'll never be able to wrap my mind, my feeble emotions around. Here it will be Spring, too, but not before a few more steps, not before its time. It feels like the most vulnerable time of the year, so perhaps I'd better just allow myself to feel it, too, and not be afraid.
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