I see the mist above the treeline—a pastel hue of dull blue complimenting a light orangish colour that is slowly rising out of it. The trees themselves are as still as a loved ones corpse when last observed with the scent of cinnamon prickling your nose reminding me that what Christmas really stands for is not only year round, but absolute. And yet, the orangish hue has already slightly turned towards that of pink, reminding me that we only think we know so much when really we know so very little, and those we consider the most wise have been graced with such knowledge to bestow. The menial amount of clouds in that great depth of rising birds egg blue are growing more defined, as our love for one another should throughout the rest of our lives, despite what contrast we feel.
You can tell when someone is not trying to walk through life with you, that they are just looking for something to be filled. The thing is, there will never be someone else that gives you the ability to let Christ in, to give you Life to the full. You are the only person that can make that decision.