Winter can be cruel

The darkness cover us, and cold winds close us off from one another

December comes, and the trees are bare

The hillsides become an impassable sponge, soaking up the rain that never seems to be far away

Where once a thousand bluebells blazed, it is now almost impossible to believe that anything can ever live again.

And into this time, comes the season of Advent

A time of waiting

A time to dare once again to hope

A time to re imagine the coming

Of a King

Who might yet

Light up everything

In brand new spring