Scene 2: A Change of Season
Dawn ceases to break as the dark clouds of winter march in, bidding omens of despair and melancholy. A change of season does not come with warnings but arrives with its cold authority sending shivers even into the most cozy corners of our hearts. People change as well, as they seek to shelter their warmth behind a colder facade reinforced with dark cloaks, hats and flowing scarves like multi-colored water flowing in the wind.
Here I am stuck in this change of season. Unprepared, I feel the brunt of the cold despair that the North Wind brings as gifts for us all to share. Yet it is not a feeling that I am alien to. Even here, half way around the world, I recognize the distant yet familiar face of Melancholy greeting me again with open arms. A familiar companion that with a strange morbidity has become a regular guest in my heart. I identify with it, sometimes using it as the shield from the wider challenges of human life. A feeling that I can comfortably pick up at any occasion, like a dark heavy coat that I put on and go to the mirror to see myself and say, "This is me. This is a part of who I am."
In contrast, I see that Melancholy does not bring good tidings to others. I see The Miracle and The Sleeper sitting distraught under the cold glass moon. Her angelic wings frozen by the invisible hands of the North Wind. She shivers under the blanket of frost that Melancholy has draped over her to subdue her vibrant and summer nature. Yet when I try to comfort her, I then realize what Melancholy has done to me. As I try to reach out my hands to her, I saw how my melancholy has rendered them faint and transparent. She sees and yearns for my human touch, yet all she can feel is a cold shadowy sensation as my hands cannot gently caress her skin but slip through as the specters they have become. And my voice has been choked into silence, my lips moving but she cannot hear what I say. In my frustration I thought of setting ablaze a lake of fire. I realize, however, that this will not only free her from her frozen state but could also burn her in flames.
So now I struggle with all these winter feelings. For so long I have easily slipped into the frost for reasons of emotional security. Now, I struggle to regain and keep my human touch. And I feel that the change of season feels so much colder when you are warm and human. Nevertheless, I must trudge forward even through the darkest of winter to keep that hope alive. The hope that one day, once again The Miracle and The Sleeper shall spread her wings to rise to the heights of heaven to paint the sky in a brighter and happier shade of blue.
