Friday
What Fresh Heaven Is This?
Cracks of sun penetrate the white room
Gone is the grey cover of sky.
I dreamt of this, but was unsure it was in my future.
Was unsure the winter would end,the ice would break and stream down river.
Now, rivets of dirty water and mud meld beneath my feet,
I track it everywhere.
The pond of a backyard is a backyard again.
A place for horses to run without injury.
The animals were trapped as was I.
Their strength astounded me.
Strays, foxes,deer all showed up looking ready for the hunt!
I smell the spring buried deep
on it's way up.
I smell it with all I have.
Monday
Friday
Tuesday
Monday
The Snow Road
In winters time the road calls me towards a baptism
It commences with the blessings of water,
floating in tight, feathered snow
I arch back and the prayers fall about me
silent in the sway they hold
Supported by parishioners of
Oak
Maple
Evergreen
My church is thick with love,
thick with delight
Hymns are sung from close and far
by those who have survived the cold
In winters time the road calls me
I answer…
Ready.
It commences with the blessings of water,
floating in tight, feathered snow
I arch back and the prayers fall about me
silent in the sway they hold
Supported by parishioners of
Oak
Maple
Evergreen
My church is thick with love,
thick with delight
Hymns are sung from close and far
by those who have survived the cold
In winters time the road calls me
I answer…
Ready.
Saturday
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