My Hope For December

I wonder if the nature around us ever bleeds in pain as it goes through the atrocious moments of metamorphosis that belies in due course of humanness instilled in the embrace of the existential realm. 

Light in its wonder seeps deeper into the crevices of the skin as amour blissfully encapsulates the darkest of hours, as transformation in its mirth changes its touch from bane to boon, galloping its way towards the winters of the December enclothed in the blanket of warmth from the wind of June. 

In its purest essence, healing occurs in the brevity of change, when nature changes its season to breathe in its utmost glory, every soul clasps onto its courage to embark on a new quest, to rewrite their story.  

2025 was a whirlwind of lessons, of journeys that intertwined in a woven anomaly of choices, and ecstasies brewed over a warm cup of coffee that dipped its serenity amid chaos. Striding through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, I jolted onto the truth that bare joy is not as sanguine as one ought to show. 

Lasping onto January that rode its wave speedily towards June that felt deep in slumber, I stumbled into the presence of December December, oh my, a tale of mistletoe and forever kisses, the beauty of holiday hope and Christmas wishes. 

Adorning the peonies of the radiance of enamoured glim, I found the beauty that I beheld within.  

December marks the beauty of letting go,  

Of all the tears and moments in time that left mourning scars, 

Letting go of all the people who were once close but are now meant to be afar. 

In its wondrous metamorphosis, may December spread moments that ease our fears and doubts, 

May we dance in the snow and cry tears of joy in the warmth of the cold blanket of December, May we blissfully conquer all the battles we don’t talk about. 

– Hridya Sharma