Poem: White Christmas
For the first time in ages it's white at Christmas
as snow covers the world in its shimmering shroud
yet few take the time to stop and wonder
at the beauty that lies
by the side of the path,
on the street lamps,
along the branches of skeletal trees.
Sometimes darkening and black
hardening with crusty slush and salty dirt
lying abandoned by the busy street
its wonder trampled and forgotten in the shoppers' minds.
In some places heaped in frozen mountains,
at the end of airport runways and people's drives
seen merely as a hazard and nuisance
piled up on the edge of what we care about.
We might not even bat an eye at it.
But in few places, it still lies fresh and glistening
in the mid-day sun or crisp moonlight.
Each square inch like a thousand crystals,
their facets reflecting and refracting the light that shines upon them.
This is the snow as it was created to be.
Pure. Dazzling. Beautiful.
It makes dog walkers stop and watch their breath dance in the air.
The busy city worker taking a cross-country detour turns off the engine
of his powerful 4x4 and stares out the window.
Even the local takes a moment while washing up the Christmas dinner
to stop and stare.
The sheer power of a field of snow-flakes is breath-taking.
The power to stop a mighty city.
The dazzling beauty enough to cause the hardiest soul to pause.
The sheer whiteness of its frosty blanket
pure enough to cover a world's dirtiness and grime.
White and peaceful, cold and crisp,
let us all remember this:
that while the dirt still seems to cling,
snow reminds us of one thing,
that while we stood knee-deep in grime,
God came and chose the perfect time
to come into our dirty world
all rights of God'ness, sideways hurled,
to bring the snow we really need
(He knows our dirty hearts, you see,)
to clean us once and once for all
so when the snow melts at his call
all that remains beneath is white
reflecting every facet of his light.
And saying in the mid-day glow,
"Friends, come stop and look upon the snow."