“ In those unexpected moments of transfiguration surely there is an advent and Christ comes to us.
— Malcolm Guite, from "Waiting on the Word"
I stooped, cut, twisted a wealth
of snowflakes, heavy in their joy.
This is progress.
The blessings fought, but gave
and tore into the air,
and spun a dance,
kissed my face, and tuck-tumbled down
to their rest on white earth.
The night sighed.
I let my weapon down.
And now
from this quiet stoop I can see
the aurora’s embrace
of my neighbor-home, can hear
the white welkin’s whispers,
can know the soft peace
of new winter’s night.