Snowfall crept in with night
and bathed my waking
in unearthly light,
casting ice into the morning air,
refracting, refracting.
Trees sugared like
Viennese crescent cookies,
boughs adorned in elegant
lace brocade.
Delicate stars winking
in their constellations
amid twigs,
naming their place in the
wholeness of being.
And my heart, alive:
is it not wondrous
to meet death as a miracle?
—Genéve Gil
No comments:
Post a Comment