this is the winter

i am accustomed to the coldest winters. i am familiar with winds that sting and steal my breath. i am accustomed to steal winds. i only know winter to be a struggle.

winter on the east was a struggle. there were demons and dragons to fight off. i have found something rather remarkable about the L-RD. He very rarely marks me by my failures. I have found that in my most recent heartaches for holiness there are fights. there are fights within myself, cutting off heart-limbs that have lived so long for comfort. and i have found that in my failures, he whispers something of pride, encouragement, a keep going. there is company here, i think. (woman, you have had too many lovers. go and sin no more. let me give you drink never ending. woman you have met the messiah.)

and then i flew westward with his promises written on my heart. (woman, i will make you mine. i will make you look like me.) new years eve i woke up in my favorite room in california and for the first time in a long time, felt light. my heart secured only by balloon strings. and then the drive back -- i realized it again. i am so happy here. there is so much hope living in these hills.

it has been raining here. we are flooded and it is still pouring. but, on my drive home on the stretch of highway that runs along the pacific and looks down on the cliffs to my left and the hills to the right, i realize that california has never been more beautiful. the grey clouds brooding over the ocean and the breakers crashing on the cliffs and the coves and ragged coast line and the light that only sometimes breaks through, its all to my left. and the hills and valleys undulating, sprouting green and bursting life and looking like hidden mysteries waiting to be discovered, to my right. and it seems as though california has turned into ireland or new zealand. it seems as though california is magic.

and it seems strange to be aware of so much life in the winter. this is the winter where it rained and we came to life.