The world is bathed in white today. It is cold and the chill is unrelenting. I long for the summer. I long for the vehemence of those days when thought is vital, anger is righteous, and love and joy are more than momentary hiccups. In short, I want the winter to pass quickly and the resurrection to be here now.
It is New Year’s Day and I think only of Easter. I do not want the Garden covered in snow, but to see its bloom. I want the witch defeated and a world where it snows only on Christmas. I have always thought paradise must be a warm place.
Today though there is only cold. There is no despair or sadness, for winter is too apathetic a season for such a thing. And I do not despise the winter, for even I have known the heart to be there.
At least it is still Christmas and soon we shall celebrate the dancing star. The household kings are in the living room on the coffee table removed from the manger by little more than ten feet.
How much I love Epiphany! I remember the star led children of Resurrection parish. I remember Marina loving the day and how much I could love a child of the warm summer for finding joy in a winter’s day. Even in the winter, love may be had.
Few have seen her grave site. The snow covers it today. Indeed “snow is general.” Though I call her a constellation, she is one of the stars of Bethlehem. I have never told the Bethlehem stars that is what they are as I prefer to give them the names of other heavenly bodies knowing that though they are constant, I still believe them to dance.
I do not dance. I do possess neither the ability to do so nor has the passion it requires been afforded to me. If I have been anyone’s star, I have been firmly fixed in the sky or I have done nothing but fall. It is a tricky thing to stay in heaven and be close enough to earth to be seen on the horizon. It is, as I have said, a talent I do not posses though I have seen it in others and such a thing remains gift enough for me.
It is New Year’s Day, the midpoint between the vigil of Christmas and the Epiphany. Soon enough it will be Easter. Already cold December has flown away and very soon not only the birth, which the star of Bethlehem announces, but the rebirth, which it celebrates.