I feel sad for the Goddess of Life has gone to the Underground and everything is dying.

The leaves have started to wither and die, coasting on the fall breeze like the whispers of lost souls searching for peace for eternity and finding none while riding the tails of the wind.

The trees start to look like skeletons that no one has yet buried, that have been left standing where they drew their final breaths, only to have the cold relentless rain wash away the last vestiges of life and leave them barren and cold for humanity to walk by and ignore.

The flowers shrivel and die and are borne away on the wind, scattered like the ashes of some unfortunate soul, never to be remembered in their hours of glory, but to be forever trodden upon by the unfeeling footfalls of mankind.

Snow falls upon the earth like a blanket of purity, hiding for a moment all of life's imperfections. But minutes after the snowflakes fall, they start to turn to a dirty, ugly mush, taking on the color of man's sins, creeping through the whiteness of the snow for everyone to see, making many a man shiver and shake fearing that his deepest sins will be uncovered and he will be shown for the weak coward that he is.

And then, one day, a breath of spring comes winging down on the heavy shoulders of today and the trees start to grow with new life. The flowers start to bloom once again in their many colors and the snow has melted deep into the ground to make all that is green come out and shine.

Winter feels so hopeless and desolate with all that is dead, but once again, spring seeps through the barren wasteland bringing life anew, such as faith brings us hope even in the darkest hours before the dawn.

By Rachel F.

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