December

December settled quietly onto my shoulders like a weight, shaking loose a shimmering dust from the sky. More and more in the evenings, I light candles, sitting for hours, thinking, like some kind of sage. "You're not alone, there are many of us," the silence whispered, and the little flame agreed, melting the wax. With that wisdom — that everything vast lives in the small — I wished I could warm my heart, not just my mind. A clear glass shield held back the wind's attacks, keeping the invisible enemy out of the house. And snow mixed with rain cut into the earth's depths, the way a boot's sole breaks up mud underfoot. The cold floor brought me back to reality. A thin trickle of light seeped into the darkness. How on earth do I find even a trace of desire? Oh world, how do I get back that old joy of mine? The crackle of bubbling water in the spouted kettle caught my attention — an insistent little whistle. And the streetlights peered in through the window, sidelong: "What you need isn't coffee — it's a sip of love!" Happy is the one who lives life in the moment and doesn't need to convince anyone of anything. Every frame of the film is priceless. Dream. Create. There's no need to wait forever.