KREATiV

As I sit here by the windowsill
I see the snow is softly falling.
A comforting blanket over the Earth
lays quietly beneath the tall trees
and a distant voice is calling:

“Come out to play with memories
of when you weren’t so very old.
Make angels or a man of snow
and let their magic help you guard
your heart against the cold.”

In the old days, things held meaning;
symbols and rituals kept you safe.
Do you remember what it all stands for?
I have no holly by my door,
no evergreens for the god’s grace.

All I have to decorate with in my room
are candle lights and fragrant oil,
but perhaps that is of the season too
and thus I’ll make do as I always have
and draw strength from the covered soil.

I lean my head against the window pan.
It cools my burning forehead.  
And if I close my eyes real hard and good
I can imagine that distant voice
singing over a newborn’s bed:

“Sleep now child there is no danger,
right here and now the future stands still.
Tomorrow’ll be another day and you must face your fate,
but for tonight just slumber deeply
and let the jubilant angels
watch you as you sleep.

Dream of all the good you’ll do,
travel to the hearts of man.
You’ll see it’s worth the sacrifice
of sleep when you are older;
to guard their souls and nightmares ban.”

The voices quiet and I don’t know
if I heard them there at all.
The window’s much too cold for comfort,
but as I turn my back to the winter scene
I think I hear that whispering call
once more behind me as I go.
And who am I to deny the angels?
I go out to meet the snow.