NeuroDivine

There is a kind of waiting that belongs only to winter.

The fields lie still. The light comes late and leaves early.
And yet, beneath the frost, something is already preparing to grow.

I’ve begun work on a new volume in The Mindful Year — a winter collection shaped by this season of quiet watching and slow hope.

This hymn is one of the first pieces to emerge:

In winter’s watch, we wait for you,
O Christ, our dawning light;
the frost lies pale on furrowed fields,
the wren keeps guard at night.

I’ve shared a little of this beginning on Patreon, for those who would like to follow the work as it takes shape.

— Michael

This marks the beginning of a winter volume in The Mindful Year.