The wind moves across the land flowing along hills and valleys like a voluminous curtain of chill. Come at last in silken strands of ice that are ushered in by the howling of vixens against the full of the moon. I stretch out my hand and try to take hold of the essence of winter as I gaze at the silver orb overhead through the crystal latticed cobweb hanging from the tree. Within such a sweet moment can come a revelation that buries into the soul. The truth awaits one who has the patience to wither in the cold and not step back into the warmth. For revelations are delicate things and subtle to impart wisdom. Yet faith guides and teaches and when I open my eyes you are there. For the snow is coming and I shall see every flake that falls with you by my side and as the moon sets our fingers entwine to defy the frost.