For 24 years, I lived in Los Angeles and during that time, I really missed the seasons ~ for lots of reasons but one is that the seasons (as is true for many of us) act as a metaphor for me emotionally. And now I am in New York City, longing for a little LA sunshine and wishing for spring. In my spirit too, sometimes it feels that I am in winter and will never feel the warmth of sunny days again. And sometimes it seems that others around me do not struggle. Of course neither is true. So wherever you are, just remember healing is a process and YOU ARE NOT ALONE http://www.youcanhelpsurvivors.com/you-are-not-alone/ And Spring may be slow coming, but it's on its way...
I wonder if the bare branched trees of winter
envy the evergreens
if they forget or simply wistfully remember
the verdant summers of the past
viewing them as long gone glory days.
Do they chaff at the unfairness of their unchanged neighbors?
Reaching to heaven with naked branches, no place to hide
while others green and growing seemingly thrive?
They do not know, of course, and none of us do
that another glorious spring is already forming
in the deep dark damp earth that houses their roots.*