after the fire, the ash. delicate petal-flakes
of once material things
whisked away in the wind
the snowfall leans long
this year in a shadow,
a dull white of weeks.
life is underground,
pinned down for now
like gabriel's great wing
held by the prince of persia.
where is my clarion message
from the almighty direct ?
covered hopes smothered
but this is mercy maybe
that renders them scentless
not senseless, i know that.
this is death's season
in death's covenant.
when we mourn
our falling, our failing,
his lifting, our raising,
above the snow and ash.
2 comments:
Very thoughtful, moving.
Beautiful and poignant. Love Dad
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