The snow is blowing, it scrapes across my face. Hoods, scarves, jackets, and mittens aren't enough. The white is pretty, but the process painful. There must be another way.
Yet on I tramp towards my destination, there is a purpose for all this. It is not karma, or chance, or luck. Mother Nature is not punishing us for our pollutants. Through the pain, comes change. Weathering through the storm will not last.
There will always be storms, and rumours of storms, but the sun does return. That rainbow was placed in the sky as a sign of hope, and so it remains.
~a lost sheep~
1 comment:
there is always someone that cares and searches for the lost sheep. just because you are lost does not mean you are not loved
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