Almost snow-like, but not quite.
Dazzling field of jewels laid delicately on each leaf.
A slight crunch with each step I take, and I am heart broken.
I have interrupted the pristine work of a deity.
Air cold, but the sun warms our back as we wander in silence.
Snow blankets far off mountains, feign close enough to touch.
The time for tucking into cozy places has begun.
This wild space reminds us we are but sojourners.
Listen to the gentil message carried on the winds.
“You are here now, this is home.
What you’ve known as holy is but a figment.”
The siren song of home grows fainter with each crest.
“Be careful – do not avert your eyes.”
The mystery of What’s Next abound,
The pages of a Choose-You-Own-Adventure book
crumpled at tattered in my sweaty palms.
“You won’t have all the answers,” says the wind.
Are you ok with that?
Can you find the beauty in Not Knowing?
Can you appreciate the harmony of Trusting Grace?
And know that the pristine work of the divine
is, in fact,
You.
40 Weeks in France 
2 responses to “Le premier givre sur le Piste de Marbrière”
“the harmony of trusting grace..” Absolutely beautiful poetry, Rus. So awesome to see you playing with different writing styles, like poetry. I like poetry, i think, because it eliminates all the qualifiers, articles, etc. everything is metaphor and ellipses (sp?) I love yr piece! But i love even more the fact that you sat and took the time to write it.
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Thanks, Willy!! It’s an honor to me that you liked it so much. I love reading your comments…I take them very much to heart. Love and miss you!!
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