Photobucket by 12lindaterry
 

A Holy Place

 

Whose woods these are I do not know...
by chance I happened on this stream
as I followed an unused path
while snow skiing to Grandma's house
in the morning one Christmas Day.

I pause...listening to the silence...
how like an holy cathedral:
this river bank my high pulpit,
the reflecting waters a  pool
of murky frozen deeds and thoughts,
the heavy snow laden branches,
bowed heads of a congregation
in worship before a mighty
force stronger than the mind of man.

Silently, the snow falls—white, wet
—a vast, and pure transformation.