Yesterday's blue skies have faded to misty gray, so today,
this is where I want to be,
where the quiet thrum of chickadee wings greets me.
Where cedars hold me in their arms,
as the creek whispers a woodland myth of healing waters,
a myth that I believe as I breathe the forest air.
Here, amid the cedar trees,
nature waits patiently for spring,
playing artfully in fallen logs
and painting with her winter palette.
Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you peace.