Of Things Snowy and Sacred

When each tree is dressed in its winter-best

And earth is tucked deep ‘neath a downy spread

When green-sheen turns plush as a splendid hush

Wraps all creation in frost-whispered thread

When hope’s gracious Giver unfurls a white river

In snowflake fathoms of sugar-spun lace

When mortality reads God’s poetry

Spelled not with ink, but in colors of grace

We pause on its page, speechless and spellbound

Surely we are treading on holy ground

When white is a cape and the sky is its drape

As heaven and landscape coalesce

Picket-fence, pine and brooding timberline

Dissolving into amaranthine tress

Where every gust is a sparkle-thrust

Of diamond deliverance; each dull rampart

Transformed to a thing fit for any king

Who here can imitate this Painter’s art?

As each cheerless sprig is grand; glory-crowned

Surely we are standing on holy ground

When riot of red is shivered and shed

Save for the garnet of crab-apple gem

When bud bled bare is an echo somewhere

Beneath barred bastion of blizzard-hem

Where farm battle-field of labor is sealed

Seed-time and harvest in ordained repose

Soft, we recall summer’s mute madrigal

Of mist-mantled morning and dew-kissed rose

We touch the fringe of Someone awesome-gowned

Surely we are living on holy ground

© Janet Martin

We are in a blizzard warning; school’s cancelled, we are bracing for severe, maybe even record-breaking cold temps! Yesterday was much milder, perfect for skiing. Since the ice-storm two weeks ago the snow on ice has created perfect cross-country skiing conditions; all the fields completely covered.

The Mighty One, God, the Lord

speaks and summons the earth

from the rising of the sun

to its setting.

Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
    God shines forth. Ps. 50:1-2