Oh January... It is hard to love you. 
If earth is a body, then you are the bones.
You challenge me to see beauty on the muddy path where I walk...
Why are you so silent?
What is the story you are writing?
You give me quiet and solitude to face the truth of my soul.
January. You are the truest of months.
I love your wisdom, your patience, your depth...
You are the beginning and the end.
And as soon as I allow you in, you are gone...