Frozen

The world is frozen. Snow and ice have locked down progress and movement for endless days. As outside, so inside. My mind, my spirit, down to my core, frozen solid. Locked in standby mode, hibernating, waiting for the thaw. Icy winds blow strong and fierce, stealing away the heat of creativity, of intellect, of will. A vast tundra of nothingness stretches away, flat, featureless and bleak. There is no hint of Springtime, no trace of warmth, no brave shoots of green growing things defying Winter's dominion. The light is a feeble and ineffective thing, weak and wavering, barely penetrating the crystalline mist that obscures my thoughts. My mind trudges on, weary and cold, to destinations seemingly unreachable, goals unrealized. The world is frozen.

Voices in the Darkness

What are we, but pinpoints of light floating like stars in the firmament? Lonely voices ringing out, seeking connection across the void. It is when our primal cries are heard that we gain meaning. Even a Universe, total and complete, is as nothing if there are none cognizant of its grandeur.