December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory.

The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.

I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.

The religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky.

I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists

Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.

Freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night.