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?