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Love Is A Gift For All Seasons
The silvern days of summer have come at last to visit us. These
are the
soft, serene, windless days of summer. These are the days that begin
with dew-sparkled mornings and gentle imperceptible breezes and end with
starry, dreamy, moonlit nights.
This morning could be any morning from
any of the many summer mornings that I have experienced and long
forgotten. It could be but it is not. This morning is today and it
is a gift I will treasure at least for today.
Today is
the summer day that has been too long absent from my life. Today is
the kind of day I'll remember when blinding snow stings my face and
challenges my spirit. Today is the kind of day for which I'll yearn
when summer has passed into the blurry coils of summers past - or
into that misty, forlorn and forgotten realm of shadowy memory.
Today the lovely summer morning brings the hues of Heaven. The
ever-elusive horizon is multi-hued in colors
splendidly subtle, a palette blended perfectly into the
crystalline-blue raiment of the sweet summer sky.
This
morning with it brings many promises; it comforts me with its peace.
All seems right with the world.
Those bitter, windy, wet, slushy days when I trudged through ice and
snow with freezing feet and frozen fingers seem now to be surreal
fabrications of some cruel alien world - a test of my strength and
resolve. Winter was a time that now seems so long ago that it can
only temporally exist on the fringes of the mind, in dark, shadowy,
and ephemeral wisps of fragile and imperfect memories.
Yet, though it seems so long ago, experience teaches me that it will
all too soon be here again. Nature does not let us linger long in
one place. The river of life moves swiftly forward and I cannot
waste time looking back at the water over which I've already
traveled.
I am warm and peaceful in the summer sun and for this moment I will
taste it and revel in it so that someday I can remember it.
Seasons come and seasons go and though I love them all, today summer
reigns with its warm and surreal beauty. Seasons cannot last - the
come and go and come and go and sometimes we barely notice them
before they are gone.
Life has its seasons like the seasons of the wind. There are seasons
and then there is love.
Love is a gift for all seasons - conquering all with its singularity
and its beautiful and perfect power. Unlike anything else, love must
be given away before you can have it. Like a tender plant - it grows
when we tend it well and dies when we neglect it.
Love is that tender shoot that rises up from the still-frozen earth
seeking to find the face of the early-spring sun - and finding it
rejoices by thriving - even against all odds. Even in the freezing
face of the wicked and wild winter wind, love grows and blossoms beautifully.
Love is the flower that stands defiant in
the snow that lingers on the near-frozen,
early-spring earth - the glorious flower that blooms in delicious deliciously
indifference to the
calendar - a calendar that matters only to those who live by it.
Love is a gift for all seasons. It blossoms in the most unlikely
places and thrives in the most hostile environments. It takes care
not where it grows but only that it be given away and cared for. It
is only when love is
given away that it thrives and grows.
Seasons come and seasons go, but love is always with us.
Love conquers hate. Love conquers time. Love conquers death.
Love is
a gift for all seasons.
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