Friday, 2 January 2015

Out with the old

Last night, the wind howled round the house like a dragon unleashed; chasing away cobwebs and the final vestiges of an old year fraught with the destructive forces of a raging sea. 
We inside, who battened down the hatches to shelter in warm darkness; listened to rain lashing against the panes; cleansing and purifying our groaning timbers that have held strong through tempest's eye.

Now is a time for calm; to clear away the debris of this storm just fled, leaving a mere ghost of itself in the brittle leaves haphazardly scattered on rain soaked lawn; and splinters of heartwood  embedded in soft flesh. 

 We will once more fill the rooms with soft light and tend to smarting wounds; a little more wary, yet ready to brave the next wave that is sure to break.

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