My heart is so hungry to feel her pulse against mine once again. It's crying out but I tell it to be calm and patient because she's a force of nature, and nature's will and rhythm are entirely her own. I don't ask the sun to shine... Yet last night I heard the winds rage, snapping old branches, and sweeping away the clouds before dawn. They were preparing for her arrival. I dress myself with serene intention and emerge to pick up the debris. She's been waiting all morning, radiant and gorgeous against such blues that I can scarcely look at her, but she's here now, embracing me, and with a warm kiss on my face she whispers "Winter will soon be over."