Sunday, December 17, 2006

Angels

A cluttered canvas is purified with white as bits of the heavens dance in front of my eyes
And rest upon my head and jacket.
The cold, with the sincerest of tough love, whips and kisses my face,
To remind me of all that I have to be grateful for.
This brutality is true beauty-- that which reveals to you just how blessed you are.
My worn boots tread carefully on the frozen walkway
Towards home.

2 Comments:

Blogger TwistedNoggin said...

You really have a way with words and images. This is lovely.

9:26 AM  
Blogger TwistedNoggin said...

You really have a way with words and images. This is lovely.

9:46 AM  

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