I woke up this morning and ran out the door, robe and all, just to get a glimpse of the morning. A glimpse of the morning before it turned into day. A glimpse of the snow so supple and true. A breath of morning fresh air so brisk on my tongue. Ah, the tree. Stopped in my tracks, here I stand facing the tree. Once again we meet. Once again we greet. Once again I see you. Pure and true. Solid and whole. No, my nails are not done nor my dishes too, but I am here seeing your beauty. Your beauty in the ashes of fresh, falling snow. Your beauty so sweet and gentle. I am giving you space to expand your branches the way they be. I am giving you space to sink down deep and soar up true. Give space to the true. Nourish it. Give it space. Let it grow. You will see. In time, it will flourish and bud once more. Till then, give space to the tree.