Silently, ice creeps upward from your toes – a delicate tattoo.
It covers you like hoarfrost, a blanket of life lived and words unspoken and dreams you are too afraid to chase. You feel it—a chilling in the tips of your fingers that grows—twisting its way closer and closer to a heart that flutters in the face of the unknown.
You feel it, and sometimes, you even embrace it.
The cold numbs the harshness of the uncertain, and so you wear it proudly, like glittering armor. Beautiful, but razor sharp. Fragile, but brilliant in the early morning light.
And for a moment, encased in ice you don’t feel at all.
You don’t move at all.
But then that sun.
The ice melts slowly at first, just enough so that you can raise your eyes skyward and bask in the warmth of the heavens. That warmth sparks in your soul, an ember that ignites, a bell tolling richly in the deep of you. The vibration ripples outward and inward and all at once you feel the tingly sensation of new beginnings.
The ice melts faster.
And then faster, a river of water, a spectacular freeing of spirit. Unchained, you throw your arms upward and laugh, bathed in golden sunlight that tears through the thick of you, lanced with the glow of hope and something you can’t quite verbalize.
The sweet contentment of knowing you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
And in that moment your soul is free- – –
–to exist, to dance, to create, to love, to simply be.
And the world turns once more about the sun.