The snow rests heavily on the branches of the pine trees after our recent snowfalls. Every now and then a branch is released of it's burden and a cloud of white falls to the ground below with a muffled sigh. Only the sight of a neighboring home and the greenish grey of the pine trees provide any contrast to the hues of white. There are moments I can hear the low hum of silence and am left only with the din of my thoughts.
I feel like the trees I watch outside my window. The weight of things of this world lay heavy on my branches. And I wait. I wait for the sun to shine to reveal the hues of blues and greens that make the whites brighter. I wait for the whisper of a wind to sweep the heaviness off my branches so I am light again and can dance to its cadence.
I wait, remaining still. Knowing.