A lovely
light
snow
covered
the ground and
bare branches
with a clean white mantle.
A kind of simple purity,
not of human making.
Given
to adorn
a sullied world.
There is a stillness to it,
a kind of holy breathing,
calm and rhythmic.
A soft sleep
before the world awakens
to rush off
to whatever waits
to claim the day.
Advent.
Preparation
for the unexpected
Coming.
How do you prepare
for the unexpected?
By planning,
doing?
Or by
forsaking illusions of control,
and breathing,
waiting,
like a peaceful night
for a new snow,
a mantle,
pure and simple,
not of human making.
-- Author unknown to me
