Snowblind

Tracks in the snow, photo by Rachel B. Baxter

Snowblind by beauty and blessings,
how can God be heard through all the clutter?

I talked and I watched and I did
but I never listened and then I cried
when I could not hear the answer…

Until one day I sat in an old chair
in an old house and stared out the window
at the snow falling against a gray sky,
not quite heavy and quick enough to blind
but just enough to gently coat the dirty sidewalks
in a blanket of white.

I had no urge to speak or move or do —
the voices in the warm house faded into the air
like low symphonic music,
played to relax the senses.

I may never hear the answers,
even in the still hush and dulled light of winter,
but if nothing else, I can breathe
and know God is here.

about me.