Wednesday, December 15, 2010


Third Poem of the Snow Trilogy


As the driven snow is pure as a babe's heart

born in a stable

when hell freezes over

when the firmament rises from the depths

and on turtles back we land on shore

to hurry into the mud before winter.

The void is cold and black

snow cold and white.

Life was hard before fire.

So we tend the fire of humanity's warmth

or try.

God's gift of Love, mother earth turning

towards the sun yet we slip towards solstice.

Days shorter, shortest.

And give gifts to each other

Happy to be alive and saved.

No need to question

the act is the answer.

Give and you will receive.

By Phil Specht on Dec 15, 2010

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