The year is birthed with Spring;
Childhood frolic is for the Summer;
Maturity and growth-end is for Autumn;
But for Winter, death becomes her.
The Yule Season comes in cold blasts.
Rains, snows, ices; all of it runs to her.
She is special, for she prepares the world to birth again.
The Yule Season;
My favorite time of year.
Written - 12/05/03; 11:52 AM
Posted - 12/05/03; 11:00 PM
Jenna White