Most artists use a white canvas,
_ then add color. _
You did just the opposite.
_Upon every leafless tree and forested hill, _
_you sent from heaven above _
_a flurry of white _
to paint your landscape.
Clearly each flake was carefully directed.
Thousands upon thousands,
_ blasted by cold wind, _
speckle trunks of oak and maple,
defining sharply each tree in the forest.
_Yet most gently floated down, _
dabbed upon every limb, bough, and twig,
_covering them with clean brightness. _
Across the valley,
_ the morning sun strikes hilltops,_
_every glistening branch sparkling _
with little diamonds of frozen cold.
As I sit on window seat,
beholding your wintry glory,
_with sounds of a feast _
being prepared in the kitchen behind me,
I give silent thanks
to an artist
who uses white so beautifully
to cover not only trees.
Subscribe to Gentle Reformation
Get the latest posts delivered right to your inbox