Poetry

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Fluffy snow, straight down sheers, coming down
No wind, rarity in our lofty alpine meadow

The light lemon sun trying to peer
Through icy crystals around vaguely defined mountains

Not unlike my unclear vision as I endeavor to see
Through a glass darkly to Your truths, Your face

Would that I could wipe it all clear
But it remains this way for Your purpose, Your time

Unclearly obscured, like the weather
Bringing moisture for growth,

The hope of springtime remembered,
On this uniquely special, God-given winter day.

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.

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