
What strikes me this year, besides the hope, is that we can’t have the light of spring without the dark of winter. That dark includes sadness, such as the death of a dear friend, but it also brings forth memories of caring and loving, which carry is forward into the light.
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
“We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,”
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
Oliver Hereford