#searched

The grass is soft in the meadows, where the rippling wind plays with wild abandon. It looks a little like waves upon the sea. The Lord of Spring rests there among the wildflowers and the drifting waves of gold and green grass. As he lays there he watches the deer come to drink at the river’s edge, just where the forest meets the field. It was there that the One Who Used to Grieve met him, sitting beside him under the endless springtime sky, drinking in the sunshine. “Can you tell me,” said the Lord of Spring. “What happened to you? Your brothers and sisters have searched for you long, I have searched for you. I missed you.” And the One Who Used to Grieve smiled softly and reached up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. “I know Father. I missed you too. I am not yet ready to tell my story yet, will you give me time?” “There is time enough left,” said the Lord of Spring. “Spring’s end draws near, yet it is still far off. Take what time you need, my Son.”