Postscript

I took a walk after the last post. 
After the anguishing.
After the praying.
I entered the listening.

I looked up and I saw a tree.
A greedy tree.
It would not drop its dead leaves.
And they rattled noisily around in every breeze.
But they are being pushed out of the way
By new growth.
Something green is quietly,
Finding its place.

I looked down and I saw some dead ground cover.
Once ornamental no doubt, long ago.
A pleasure to the eye, but
Now, a mulchy spread at best.
Still, its dead overlay serves some purpose.
It protects that tender new growth hidden deep beneath.

And I heard You whisper in Your grace:
"As sure as chimes ring in a wind,
When you are ready to be in the sun and wind and rain
I will reach in and clear away last year's death."

It is spring in every way!