Winter crisp,
sharp-edged glitter-
Oh!
That leaf-strewn path,
once edged in gold and
a suddenness of blue
now lies
sheathed
in silver and white and grey,
Startled by shadows.
I could not see where earth began and horizon ended,
but bare branches held up the sky,
unbowed,
and evergreen altars
laden with snow and the
remembrance of spring
Unbound.
God's voice danced through ice and air
that stung my eyes
and burned my lungs,
and I sang
There on the edge of winter,
As the sky
the earth
the horizon
Pearled
with the rising of morning,
I sang an exaltation of
Light,
A hosanna of
Cold,
my soul returned.
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
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