Humble, mighty reed
healer of land and water
sleep sweet in your frozen bed.
Defying winter’s gloom
perfect pink blossoms
are delivered for the New Year.
Miles of the great silver rock
have been cut to create the corridor
into and through the Northeast Kingdom.
Fluff the nest and tuck your beak beneath your wing.
Winter has arrived. It is sitting on our perch, dear.
Nature traced the line of every branch and limb.
She favors highlights in white.
Dusk sweeps in on a sparrow’s wing.
The granite layer cake was frosted with snow.
It keep well for several centuries at room temperature.
When the sun often licked off all the icing
the sky simply applied another layer.
Fairies’ feet make no footprints
in the star dust on the stairs
as they make their way to the heavens.
Glory to God in the highest
and peace on earth,
goodwill toward men.
Hope is the energy that beats the heart.
Light is its manifestation.
Love fills the space in between.
In the winter landscape
the snake with his skin of leaves and grass
hunts the water bird.
They venture forth
for a final swim
before the river freezes them out.
The sky moves as fast as the days are short.
Cold is gathering, gathering, gathering.
the embers of the day
melt away into grey.
My artist eye refuses to see
just lichen and rock.
No. This a celestial flowering.
Alone in the fields
contemplation holds my hand.
Reverence is my path.
The ice erases
the sky and trees
as it creeps across the pond.
The forest’s berber
is a durable oak.
The colors of hope are lavender and peach.
As the snow falls outside
the pinks continue to blossom
in their sunny window.