![\"\"](\"http:\/\/jolenephilo.com\/staging\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/12\/IMG_01971-300x200.jpg\" "\\"pink")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
This gray December day,
\ndarkness bears down
\nlike a weight upon my soul.<\/p>\n
Morning comes too late,
\nevening comes too soon,
\nand what light that comes is weak and faltering.<\/p>\n
My shoulders bend beneath the burden of darkness,
\nmy legs barely climb the stairs,
\nmy gaze looks downward until a flash of color catches the corner of my eye.<\/p>\n
There, in the south window,
\na geranium is blooming,
\nits bright, pink face lifted to the light.<\/p>\n
The petals rest on the windowsill,
\nseparated from the cold by two thin panes of glass
\nand a cushion of air.<\/p>\n
Not much protection for a plant,
\nnot much daylight for a blossom,
\nnot much hope for my weary soul.<\/p>\n
Yet this splash of color is enough
\nto lift the weight from my shoulders
\nand make me smile in anticipation of light to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This gray December day, darkness bears down like a weight upon my soul. Morning comes too late, evening comes too soon, and what light that comes is weak and faltering. My shoulders bend beneath the burden of darkness, my legs barely climb the stairs, my gaze looks downward until a flash of color catches the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[311,320,482,583,953,1245],"class_list":["post-3151","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-daily-life","tag-darkness","tag-december","tag-geranium","tag-hope","tag-poem","tag-winter"],"yoast_head":"\n