season change

multiple trips to the yard

now frosted, Kona the puppy

quickly self-trained

but her whimpers at the door

call for quick response

cold settles in to the deepest

pain in my bones

still, I can appreciate

beauty, snow burdened branches

painted skies

and the hush

of a season that comes

wanted or not

too too soon

the beginning of 2014

January through April, perhaps a bit of May

winter slipped under the doors

painted pictures on the windows

while we were lost in dreams

of a life hotter, fuller in Africa

and in August that same year

we left the prairies below us as we flew away

there were visits back

2016, 2018 but always summer

never did I miss the ice

the bitter winds

or the snow, no

not at all

yet, today I find myself here

the sky dull

constant cloud cover 

dripping rain and yes,

snow,  early October

shivering deep beneath my skin

winter hardly begun

the long season of fleece

down, woolly socks and hot tea

is upon me and the thought

of hibernation tantalizes

new snow tires on the vehicle

but oh, if I had my way

I'd remain inside

until Spring's thaw

months and months from here

outside my door

just outside my door

life springs

green and pink

wild after the rains

and me pondering

if ever I would again

choose snow

life upside down

work in the fields

continues here

in plus 30C 

sizzling sunshine

praying to plant

before the rains

news from home

speaks snow

cold knocking bitter

as winter proclaims itself

life for us

is upside down

much the same

as Jesus preached

His Kingdom was

is, will be

then we are right in His midst

 

lace and glory

this season of

the shortest days

the velvet dark deeper 

than memory 

recalls

a hole that pulls you in

fingers harsh, cold

muffled but not

silent

don't linger long

for there are gifts barely 

hidden

how He scatters snow 

like lace, the thick

and thin

creating space

for glory revealed

without apology

prompted by tweetspeak poetry

and hanging out at the pub
 

nothing predictable

January's middle when the ice 

settles deep in bones

we had snow last night

snow this morning

while the wind howls

swirls, sculpts drifts of white

and now 39 degrees fahrenheit

bright sun denying the forecasted storm

not snow, thunderstorms 

January 15 thunderstorm

with snow again to follow

diving wind chills

nothing predictable, or steady

only 100% chance

there will be weather of some sort

or another

 

pixels captured

pixels captured

hope spread 

wide, flash

against the snow

power in delicacy

flight

suspended, beauty

almost too sacred

to hold, this

moment

back with the poets today
 

provision

as the snow falls

filling the yard

coating the bare branches

the winter birds return

expecting to find food

believing in provision

simple faith

that I have yet to learn

 

renewal

time crushes, demands 

more than it gives

harsh wind pulling

away from my source

too much not enough

left me hard, brittle

disconnected

the call was thin, almost 

too quiet to hear

come away

leaving snow

and static behind

to breathe, washed 

by steady rain

heart pores open

made supple once more

finding my place elbow to elbow with the other poets today

 

warm side of the glass

on the warm side

of the glass I am

holding fast against

the wind

symphony of knocks

whistles, cries

leaves dance mid air

as branches crack

splinter on the narrow road

covered far too soon

with snow

hanging out with the poets today

 

new snow

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

I am finding rest 

in the silence and the beauty

of His new fallen snow

smoothing rough edges

coating the world with fresh

 

finding the stillness with Sandy

 

truth in weather

morning dawned remarkable

fuchsia streaking light

soon the sky was littered with flurries

did one option better display His glory

simply because I preferred it?

would I deny the truth

of His creation, His control

as the weather shifts

in ways not to my liking?

the rain is His

as much as the sun

the brittle winds

blowing at His command

the ground is covered white

yet there is beauty here

 

joining Lisa-Jo talking about truth

 

Muffled

The new fall of snow

began on April's last day

and dragged into the start of May

an outward expression

of my own muffling.

I have been quiet here

in my home

in my heart

holding it still

at the edge of the waterfall

fearing the rapids

could wash me far 

lost downstream

from the me I have known

daughter, child 

to those who raised

and loved me

and are no more.

Yet never an orphan

for I am His.

"Now you can reinvent yourself"

whispered my sister-in-law

on the day I left what will never again

be my parent's home.

The tears will start, stop

start again

as memories rush in

I will share when I can

as I find my footing

in a world forever altered.

“I will not leave you orphaned. I'm coming back. 

In just a little while the world will no longer see me, 

but you’re going to see me because I am alive 

and you’re about to come alive. 

At that moment you will know absolutely that I'm in my Father, 

and you’re in me, and I’m in you.

John 14:18-20 The Message

Walking with Emily and the broken redeemed

 

Winter lingers

Facebook and Twitter messages flash on my screen, 

telling me of seeds planted, buds appearing, 

blossoms beginning to thrive. 

Such is March in the lives of many.

I have chosen life on the Canadian prairies, 

western Manitoba, 

where snow falls early and stays late.  

The flakes first appear in early October 

and can fall fresh in mid-May.

This is home.

The long winters teach lessons in patience and hope.  

We flip through seed catalogues, 

water the indoor plants 

and believe in what we cannot yet see.

Faith means ·being sure [the assurance; or the tangible reality; 

or the sure foundation] of the things we hope for 

and ·knowing that something is real even if we do not see it

[the conviction/assurance/evidence about things not seen]. 

Hebrews 11:1 Expanded Bible


Linking up with Lisa-Jo today

 

Roof raking

Rick is out clearing snow off the roof of the house

The rake looks like a small push shovel 

on the end of an extra long expandable pole

He reaches up and out, then pulls

and the pile up of snow that weighs heavy on our home 

pours down like rain

blowing in the wind

a blizzard of his own making

leaves me pondering 

how often we avoid the cleaning

how the very storms that frighten us

are the same as those that clear the path 

for a brighter coming day

I sense that God is speaking here 

and again I feel the call 

to surrender to His hand

to whatever work He chooses to do 

in me, through me, around me

refining through snow, or wind or fire

may I bow low, my only cry

"not my will, but Yours be done, Lord"

 

Resurfacing

Snow falls gentle, the winds, silent

clouds block the sun, muffle light

I feel embraced, warm in fleece

yet fog closes in, visibility blurs

too easy to get lost

in the soft

I have practised breathing

have mastered the in, out

so that even stale will sustain

but a small voice nudges

What kind of life is this?

so this is me

kicking against normal

fighting my way up

to break the surface

gulping fresh

Linking at the Pub today, come on over here to read works by others

 

Winter poem/Poema de Inverno

dVerse ~ Poets Pub posted today about Foreign Tongues 

and suggested we add other languages

 (real or imagined) to our work --

Here then is a new seasonal poem:

snow falls 

silent victim 

to howling winds

caught in the frenzy

drifting

seeking solid ground

just as I seek shelter

cupped gently 

against your chest

love poured into love

watching the ice freeze

crystal hearts 

upon the windows

and here, the same in Portuguese

quedas de neve 

vítima silenciosa 

a ventos uivantes

pegado no frenesi

ir à deriva

busca de terra sólida

tão como busco a coberta

em forma de xícara suavemente 

contra o seu peito

o amor fluiu no amor

observação da geada de gelo

corações cristalinos 

sobre as janelas

To let your poetic spirit absorb more even if your mind can't quite understand, 

stop by The Poet's Pub

Frosted

Out of whose womb came the ice? 

And the hoary frost of heaven, 

who has given it birth?

Job 38:29 Amplified

Joining Deidra and the Sunday choir

 

Composed of one thing only

The snow itself is lonely or, 

if you prefer, self-sufficient. 

There is no other time 

when the whole world 

seems composed of one thing 

and one thing only. 

Joseph Wood Krutch 

and in that one thing only

I am yet not alone

I am silent in the secret place

abiding 

let it snow

Quiet in the stillness with Sandy

abiding with Cheryl