Alediane

 We are so blind That the absence of cold Comes as a surprise. Too late, Winter has passed and No snow fell, Only rain.

 Love is a free spirit unstoppable, undeniable. It dips it toes into everything and touches everyone regardless of whether it's welcome. In some rare moments we can capture Love between us and another. It floods us with feeling And then just like that it's gone, flying off, released from it's temporary cage. Once I tried to capture Love, but no matter how I tried, or how tight I held it It slipped through my fingers leaving only a lingering warmth and a strange feeling of loss.

     I only hope in the end the pages will be as full as my head. In my mind the story starts as a seed- a small thing, just a tiny little flame, but it doesn't fade and sputter out. Like a candle melting, it quietly climbs downwards, all but forgotten. Then suddenly the flame has reached the deep, dark place where little candles rarely see. It is the only light down there, fighting to illuminate an inky darkness that cannot be pushed away. Finally, with a surge, it reaches out in all directions, trying to consume the dark rather than fight it. It doesn't seem to realize that the darkness is an extension of itself; that black is just the pos