The Winter.

 

The icy wind tugs at my coat as if it wants to play. It finds its way in and grins greedily as it finds flesh.  I pull my collar tighter as if to impose my power again - and begin to pick up my pace.  This game feels like it's been going on for a lifetime and I'm tired of it now.

It knows my weakness and almost laughs at my attempt to protect myself.  With fierce persistence - it again whirls around me...and somehow the swirling orchestrates a lashing to my face. A lashing that uses my own hair against me. 

It reminds me how my older brothers used to take my fists and hit me with them while chanting "Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"  I loathed that game.  And I was loathing this game as well.  

I turn and shout, "Stop beating me!" But it only howls louder as it slaps me again and again.

I can feel the tears begin to form.  And I wonder when it will be over.

I feel depleted. 

With persistent force the wind continues to lash my face.  It doesn't care how I feel. It is cruel and relentless.

The cold starts to creep in again, knowing I am exhausted.  It settles on me, and I let it. I can't fight anymore.

My bones hurt as I shake.

I close my eyes.  Maybe blessed sleep will be my saviour.

But suddenly all alarm bells are on.  And I can't still the noise.

Where is peace?  I am crying again.  Or maybe I'm still crying.

Faintly in the din, I sense a ray.  I don't see it yet.  But I hope.  

Was it someone seeing me?  No, that couldn't be.  They have storms of their own.

But the seed is planted.  And I can't help the hope from growing.

Then again - was that a bird?   It almost sounds like a knocking.

Do I let them in?  I can't.  I'm such a mess from the storm.  And I am not ready.

But I want to see.  I want to see who had the courage to find me.

As I rally to find my strength.  I begin to find power in this hope.

I realise now the wind begins to hush.   And I can hear sounds in the distance. 

Sounds of activity and breath and soul, and I am captivated by it.  

I take pleasure in every sound.  A smile accidentally escapes my lips.

The knocking continues louder, as if to push the weight of the darkness off my shoulders. Weight I didn't even know I was carrying.  And finally I open my eyes.

The clouds have passed. And the cold has gone.

I see signs of life unfold.  

I too begin to unfold. 

Timidly, I unbutton my coat, and let the warm air embrace me.

I have made it through the winter.