fasten (v).

948d2537661dc3c8437a5f99d2efd145In this time of seemingly unbearable stillness, cling to even the simplest joys to fill the space. Cling to the morning quiet, the lazy kettle whistle, the hush that comes when the sun sinks slowly, and early. See: even the sky gets tired. Cling to the love you've known, and the hope that, as good as it was, it could be even better, cling to the eyes you catch glancing and the embraces from dear friends. Cling to the words you've written down and the person your mother sees you to be. Cling to the long sighs and puzzled moments, cling to the questions and doubts and even the little fears that sneak their way in, even in those things there is something to hold onto. Mostly, cling to others' kindness, whether the stranger who holds the door or the man who holds your heart so sweetly, the friend who holds your hand, your father and his simple "chin up" pep talk, the person in the coffee shop giving way for you to pour a dash of cream first, the bus driver greeting you, "good morning." Cling to these, urgently.

And even in the stillness of the dead of winter, the trees, sleeping and stripped of their skirts of leaves, dream of the first day of spring.