Snow.  Lately there has been quite a bit of it.  Even in the mild Pacific Northwest.

Frozen water flakes.  Feelings so still that they are cold.  If I can let them rest on the trees, they will be warmed into nourishment, licked with the fir lips, gently welcomed into the roots.

Let my tumbled rumbling tossed and turning restless irritated and discontent swirls of salt tears be stilled.  Be still and know that I Am.

There is only AllTthat Is.  This cold white morning, warm room in my heart can open up to easy next actions.  One tiny next indicated thing at a time.

Rest in loving arms.