I get up from my chair and open the curtains up.  I’ll have a higher heat bill, but for now I want to look out, and up.  I look at the sun I’ve not seen in two days as the fierce wind hollowed the remaining light out of the sky, the light now holding a quality beyond heat and illumination.   In the distance the sound of a church bell, a deliberate note blowing free, like snow from a winter branch. Somewhere within, a priest lifts the Host in a series of shimmering gleams like warm rain that falls from the sky as vows are spoken, and what is broken is healed. — Brigid