Winter Walking

(January, 2003)

There is a blessed fall of bursting heaven’s tears
with joy to freeze them over
like a thousand tiny shards of broken glass and powdered ice
that fall on quiet, familiar streets where we walk together-
you and I.

Like dust from angels’ wings
who walk alongside our sometimes silence, the color
of a baby’s blanket, white
like a wedding, white like forgiveness,
and the angels promise to keep quiet as we talk together-
you and I.

Words outnumber the fragile flakes that dance
around our ankles and settle on our eyelids, and words
drown out the sound of the December winds
that play in our hair- words like
“remember when...” and “someday...”
And the silences still speak
and whisper, “let’s just enjoy our walk together-
you and I.”

Our pathway winds with soft counsel along
a road that is wide enough for two- two to fall
when there are grooves along the way, hidden by
angelic snowfall and gray shadows from white-peaked cedars
and if you fall, we fall together-
you and I.

But let us continue down this narrow path of
life and of soil bearing struggle and decision,
followed by the thousands who have gone before us, and
won the call and race, and so with eyes
upward turned we’ll walk, and we'll finish together-
you and I.