Do I rise?

Do I rise?

Can you see the desire

in the snow as it meets creation –

even as creation sleeps in the dark?

As it falls the flakes are held,

slowed in the embrace of streetlight

before resting on the ground.

 

How many gifts, like the snow,

are laid out for me, in the dark

while I am still half asleep? And do I rise,

like my daughter did this morning

to receive the gift with her naked feet,

without concern for ‘why’ or ‘how’,

just hungry to have it

between her toes?

 

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