A song through the wind to my ears. Robin withdraws from spatting sparrows to tiptoe through white air. Wordless, sparks in mist, crystal airwaves of the morning sky land on my hood. I sense your presence, unseen and formless. Or is it here I see you?
Low branches, laden with snow rich as cream, point and sway like accusatory fingers as I pass. I remember then those pews of my youth, where I once sat hunched and unmoved. Those words could not tame me.
Now, wings lift her body branch to branch, head bowed at berries, as I hunger for your words and close my eyes in prayer.
You describe it so well Deb. I understand the prayer there. “white air” I like that description. Love those pictures….It all fits.
Here’s me: “I got pasted with snow”
Gary, I love that, “I got pasted with snow’”. You also made me laugh. That’s such a great gift. And thank you.
Beautiful, Deb. We’ve had very little of the white stuff here this year. Snow is not my favorite kind of weather, but I do love the hushed atmosphere when out walking in it, and you captured it well in this piece. I could almost wish for some, but I’m enjoying the flowers too much. 😉
Simply (or extraordinarily) exquisite! Thank you, dear Deb!
Thank you, Sandra. ❤️
Annie, tomorrow when the temp moves into the 40s and we’re all dirty slushiness, I will be hushed by the image of those flowers! 💛
Thanks for sharing some of God’s gifts with us. The pictures are awesome and so is the verse!
My pleasure, Jon. Thanks for sharing it with me.