Under the giving snow
blossoms a daring spring.
As if we need a reminder
that nature doesn’t check the calendar
and the weather does what it pleases when it pleases:
~a snow fell for hours yesterday
and we remain cloaked and drifted this morning~
we look more pristine than we are.
Underneath this fluffy blanket
we’re barely presentable,
wrinkled and worn,
all mud and mildew beneath.
But Spring will come
rising from its snowy bed,
lit from an inner fire
that never burns out.
Through clouds like ashes
we turn aside to see God’s glory;
our eyes carefully covered
from the glaze of snow,
we feel His flash of life as He passes by.