In the last of this spontaneous lunar cycle celebrating the abundance of a Storied World,
I am asking you, if you will, to think of your own story.
Specifically the very Heart of your Winter Story.
If you can think back, back, back beyond the fleeting months of this year.
As you perhaps sat in the stillness cuddled under thick jumpers and blankets,
by some kind of fire, where did your mind wanderings take you then?
What sat in you unfulfilled and unplanned but started to subtly glow like a pinprick of light in amongst all the darkness?
What did you unknowingly, unwittingly plant then that is surprising you now?
What has steadily determinedly sprouted?
Even untended, flourished nonetheless.
What trees in your life are now so overladen with fruit that they are heavy with the weight of their own abundance and can only let it fall to feed others?
Where did you expect there would be a ripe, juicy, plumpness and find when you go to gather it in, it is smaller and sparser than you had anticipated?
What Winter Harvest greets you now?
That you may thresh, and grind and feed yourself with?
As Summer starts to fold into itself.
Where will you go from here in your Story with the Winter Dreaming that revealed itself, before it begins to decay back into the soil from whence it came?
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