Something is coming
Inside I hear the wind
Her voice trembles as she speaks
She speaks of things to come
She speaks of coming cold.
I try and calm her.
Her frostbitten touch
Sends shivers down my being
Change and things to come, I have been having this feeling that things are changing for a while now, maybe it is because of the effects the Coronavirus and the lock down but I feel it brewing inside me this feeling that a new season is coming I struggle to find words to name it or explain it, best I can do is just an anticipation of something, something to come.
As I write this the wind outside is raging and you can feel that this is no mere wind, this is a wind that brings baggage with it, maybe more like icy baggage, you can just know that with it, it brings the cold.
Trying to play connect the dots with my life has brought me perspective, I notice things that I have not before I notice that the stage was set each time by hands I never noticed while in the scene. Now I start to realise that things happen and it cannot just be the scene that plays out before my eyes I know that there are hands that set this up, often I try to catch the scene changes happening but that took away from the show I did not feel present I felt as if I kept seeking affirmation of what is happening and seeking answers to the choices that I need to make in life, now I have learned to trust the hands but I am aware that the scene is being set up and that brings excitement and anticipation, as I know that this wind is not just a wind this wind is setting something up and without us noticing it will be on our doorstep.
Some years back I was part of a performing arts ministry we did small shows and I was one of the scene “changers”, but what I found interesting is there was someone who placed the object behind the stage for me to go place it ready for the next scene, there are hands behind the hands, we can go even before that and before that and so on but that’s not the point right now what I am trying to say is sometimes the scene is set before I knew it the hands that helped the hands has made this moment possible.
He does not speak
He does not have to
He has already been all over
The Trees reveal his fingerprints
Day seems to hide from him
Night rise early to spend time with him
He is not coming
Winter has long arrived