During Winter at the Cove *Brighter Dao*

Green in the cove, has long been gone. The cove is now covered with the cold white powder of snow. The stream that once flowed in the back of the cove has since become ice. The Daoists still come to talk about everything even in these difficult conditions. Traveling in the snow, with the appendage numbing chill in the air, bring thoughts of warmth and thoughts of her.

She is not with the Daoist as he walks to the cove, but she is in his heart everywhere he goes. A physical connection hoped for, but a spiritual, or conceptual idea of her is sufficient enough to keep him striving for more.

A person he has never met, but has always loved dearly floats on the tip of his mind. As the Doaist realized he was not moving due to the thoughts he takes his coats and tightens them up substituting the thought of her warmth with the warmth of the coats. How, soon he starts to think of her, having a picture in his mind but not clear enough to see her face, feeling her warm body against his but never able to have the physical connection with the person in his mind.

Soon the Daoist finds himself in the cove, the first one today to show. On a day like this many of the others will not show up. He can to the cove to think more so than to discuss the cultivation of oneself. He wanted to contemplate on this person, on her and the reason the cold has sparked her image into his memory more often.

He glances over to see a stone of white jade sitting in the cove, brought by one of the other Daoist brothers. The brothers idea was to make the old man a stone chair to sit in while they discussed cultivating oneself. He grabbed a hammer and chisel and started to chip away a little at a time from the rock, all the while he had several questions he was wrestling with about her.

Why is it in the Feast of Winter, this image has risen? The thoughts of being held by her warm body, her gentle touch across the forehead, a hand ran through the hair, and the joy of an door opening and seeing her welcome you home with a hug and genuine happiness.

Waking up on the cold morning with her and walking to the kitchen, talking to each other as Hot Cocoa is made, what warm thoughts one has in the cold environment. What would the elder say about such thoughts, such ideas?

The elder coming into the cove some time ago, was sitting on the stump. Watching the young Daoist, realizing that he was deep in a meditative thought, of pure warmth the elder decided to walk in the forest instead of staying in the cove. On his way out he met one of the brothers and requested that he make sure the cove is not disturbed today. One of the brothers is inside and is in deep meditation.

As the day dragged on the Daoist in thought became warmer, as the thoughts of her rushed in at a more intense pace, and the work of the stone making his body create heat. Thoughts of coming home and spontaneously dancing with her. Eating a meal together, side by side. He caress her face, feels the warmth upon his fingers, as they continue shaping the white jade.

Her soft spoken words coming into his mind warming his thoughts, but the words are unable to be made out. He sees her lips move, and hears a voice, but the content is lost in his thoughts. Just the image of her standing there in her gown with a smile, brings such warmth to his cold body, to his tortured soul it is like the hot cocoa on a very cold morning.

To hold her in his sleep, to hold her in his waking hours. Doing what he can to keep the smile from fading, doing what he can to keep her image in his thoughts. As the chair comes together closer with each passing thought, the white jade takes shape. The shape reflecting his thoughts of this intangible love, of the woman he has loved from the beginning but has never met.

Thoughts of having a family with her, a daughter to share warmth with in the long winter nights, to cherish for eternity, to share the cocoa with. Long flowing hair, gowns and the little princess attitude, brings a warm smile to his face as the temperatures drop around him.

The chair now completed and tools put up the Daoist looks at the chair, and with tears freezing he weeps at the beauty of the chair, the beauty that physically form from thoughts of a woman he has never met warming his soul, his heart, his body.

He pulls the chair next to the stump and sits down with his head in his hands. Bringing the questions back into focus. Why do I think of warmth in the dead of winter? The elder would say that it is a sign of balance, that even in winter with signs of cold, and signs of death, there must be the opposite present as well. Thoughts of warmth, and thoughts of life.

To dream of a woman I have never met, is it wishful thinking? The Daoist thinks about the question while bringing the long haired woman into his thoughts. Possibly wishful, partly fantasy, partly something he is looking for in a mate, a companion, a lover.

The Daoist suddenly realizes that none of this matters, the questions are just questions. Lao Sure would say, that this is not the only world one may live in, but in the mind there are many realms and many gateways to worlds that can be defined as real as the one finding them wants them to be.

She is my heart, my kindness, my salvation from torment. years may pass and many girlfriends may come and go, but she will always have a section of my mind. A place to rest when this world get to be too much, a place where I can rest and sleep.

A place where no storms rage, no secondary motives exist, just the pure interaction between my wife, and myself. My love and my warmth. Who is she, she is second cousin to Harvey the Rabbit... But she is my salvation, my imagination, and she exists in the world I created in my mind. A world that may seem confusing to many out there, but it makes complete sense to me.

:Listing to Ronnie James Dio