Winter Psalm

The snow storm today inspires me to post this poem again, from Emblem:


Boston snowbound, Logan closed, snowplows

and salt-trucks flashing yellow, drifts

tall as a man some places, visibility poor,

I sit by the window and watch the snow


blow sideways north-northeast, hot cup

in hand, robe over pajamas.

You have made me to seek refuge

and charged me to care for my brothers.


How cruel. That could only be You out there

howling, cracking the trees, burying everything.

What could I possibly want from You

that would not undo the whole world as it is?

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