Listening

frostyashtrees

 

Soft and still, the silent snow

Speaks in icy syllables –

Rosy cheeks and tingling toes,

Hibernating miracles,

Children carving angel’s wings,

Jingling sleigh-bells, frozen breath;

Holidays and lights on strings,

Life in temporary death.

 

 

The Star at the Top of the Tree

potentilla frost

 

O Morning Star,

You who fell from heaven

to take on flu and scars and walk

within weather and time and disappointment,

illuminate this frigid Dark that consumes my blighted soul,

that I might be released into my Destiny, to relay Your reflection as

moon to your sun, declaring brilliance in my lineage, decorating Your tree.

 

 

 

Collecting Data

Aprilsnow.jpg

Senses collect the data,

process and sort,

 conclude that Christmas is coming.

But senses can be sidetracked,

deceived,

led down a snowy garden path.

Heart and mind collect Promises,

data for the spirit,

process and sort,

conclude that Spring

is but a breath away.

*

For a devotional on this topic, visit Growing With God in my Garden

It Could Have Been an Angel

frost overhead

It could have been an angel,

whose ¬†rustle I just heard –

it could have been the breath of God

advancing Living Word;

it could have been a baby’s cry

with virgin-breath its kin;

it could have been my heart’s rebirth,

as Saviour entered inn.

A World Wrapped in Icicles

hoarfrost sunlight

A world wrapped in icicles,

doomed to dark night,

has suddenly been dazzled

by holy white light!

A Son born of Mary

and laid in the straw

has come to deliver,

to usher in thaw.