You can only see through the trees in winter.
During the cold, dark season,
the light is able to penetrate into the woods.
The rays of grace may not linger long,
but they illuminate in a way
that summer’s fullness never can.
The warm vibrant season
fills the woodlands to the max:
visions of greenery,
movement of insects,
the song of birds by day
and the chorus of crickets and frogs at night.
There is so much to observe and to take in.
But then the bitter winds return,
the critters steal away,
and the greenery dries up and disappears…
and you’re left with the silence.
You’re left with your own self.
Can you hear anything?
Is there a voice within?
There is little distraction now.
You can now look through the trees,
you can now look through yourself.
It becomes less about what is there,
and more about the essence of what is not easily perceived.
The trees are stripped of their glory,
and the focus shifts from the grand woods
to the understanding that you can now see through them.
I understand this phase of life,
when everything you’ve ever loved
is stripped away,
and you’re forced to face
your own fragile bones
and the emptiness of it all.
it is only during these times
that the light can truly penetrate.
Though they do not linger long,
the rays of light reach deep
the space between.
That’s when the very essence of your soul
is truly able to be seen,
and you can now
There is purpose
to every season.
In the midst of great darkness
light can shine the brightest,
and the emptiness of one realm
can reveal the fullness of another.
Enjoy the green of summer,
but never forget
the lessons you learned in the naked woods:
You are more than what is seen or can be grasped…
you are the vast full space between.