Advent

Grey: bland.

Winter: cold and harsh. 

Dark: where the shadows reign... where the sun does not reach.

This is Winter. 

[...]

I am the unwelcome guest, where false smiles are plastered as I enter, as the heat of the excitement and celebration dissipate as I make my quiet entrance. 

I am the unwelcome guest.

The skies turn grey when I make my stay, and all grows cold as my winds bite. The nights are dark and starless, and though I make my yearly rounds, still I am unwelcome, and alone. 

The one of the four who reminds of death, I am the melancholy and the chilling. 

I may be bland, and I may bring cold and harsh winds, and my nights may be dark and starless,

but this is who I am;

This is Winter. 

[...]

This is Winter.

I may be grey, but I am also white; I am whole to the colors of broken light; I am the calm that brings out the vibrant, the nothing that brings out the everything.

I may be cold, and I may be harsh; but I remind those to hope, that if there is a worse there must be a better and if there is cold there must be warmth.

I may be dark and hide the stars, but trust and believe and have faith; behind the clouds that are mine are the stars, and remember; it is in the darkest of nights and the darkest of times when hope and light shine brightest; 

I may remind many of death, but there would be no life without; 

"I am the end that is the beginning;"

This is Winter's advent. 

Hear

Beneath the life that is green and well, 

Lies the skeletons of those before;

For death and life go hand in hand;

This is our waltz,

This is our dance. 

[...]

Cover the floor in the colors of broken light, 

Veil the forest in a lively green;

Burst forth without forgetting;

This is your chance,

To live and see.

[...]

As the sun dries your dewy tears 

In your ephemeral bloom, 

Unfurl your petals, and your leaves; 

And just be;

Even if only for a small eternity. 

[...]

Fall with grace in brilliant fire, 

As the reds and oranges and yellows wilt to brown;

Join your sisters and your brothers;

These may be your last memories,

Just one amongst all the rest.

[...]

Beneath the life that is green and well, 

Lies the skeletons of those before;

For death and life go hand in hand;

This is our waltz,

This is our dance...

[...]

Listen for the tones beneath;
A symphony of harmonies;

[...]

"This is our waltz,
This is our dance."

[...]

Welcome to the melody.