The morning rays of gold peer through fog and clouds, showing a dash of hope for a bright warm springs day. These past months have been spent in bitter cold by those around me, while I could still feel the warmth of summer in my soul. The gentle flakes of snow turned a once simple ground before me into a ballroom, with the snow as my blanket of dress. Twirling, engaged in dance we spun surrounded by bright lights, with rosy cheeks and white gown I became lost in eyes of fresh mint, drowning, but thriving in pools of green. Now the dress of snow turn to soft leaves and lilies, hugging my body and entangling my hair. The fog has lifted and I am kissed by the sun, laughter and the new replace the old and known, for a time, until it shall die again, with regeneration on the horizon.