Easter is upon us, synonymous with Spring, a time for reflection and renewal. The landscape sheds its winter whites and dry as dust brown, to don Technicolor green. With the tilt of the Earth on its axis and cool Spring moisture, I too am reborn.
Reborn not of new material, but remade from the fabric of my existence. Strands of new hope woven through warp threads of losses and heartaches. Memories are the fiber of being, always present.
