By David De Jong

Peaceful beauty cloaks the grove this day
Broken briefly by a scourging jay
Whispers of God in absence of breeze
Pausing with glory adorning the trees

All breath, held at bay so flakes stack on a wire
Creating pure frocks for His angelic choir
Tufted sparrows scurry to and fro
No branches unhindered from sacred snow

All paths have vanished completely erased
No footsteps to ponder, all time replaced
The boughs hang heavy in reverent awe
Bidding humble praise to their King Yahweh

Held assuredly in His firm embrace
Gently comforted in serenely grace
How much His creation reflects His face
Transforming brokenness to a holy place


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