The warmth in my soul is chilling, has chilled, and though I miss truly the days when the fire blazed, I do not regret the end of things. When did it happen? When did regret die, and the determination to continue trudging forward begin? I wish I could remember that day, that moment.
I long for something more. I do not embrace the cold, but accept it as a season. So deeply does my heart, my mind, my body long for spring! Not envy nor sadness fuel this longing, but the deep desire of my heart, repressed for awhile but flowering again.
I fear my purpose may be in conflict with my heart.