What is pale and drawn out by light and cold is not dead. The life is within, or, rather, it is concentrated, or distilled.
When you walk through the cold, every twig is power. If you grasp them, you can feel their line down to the roots, bound by ice to all of the earth and through ice to sky and stars. Now that you have found their power, come back in the light and find its concentration.
Welcome to the poetry of the earth, and the open secrets of red osier dogwood, medicine for body and soul.