Snow

A prayer
of snow
is falling,
flake by flake,
to bring
the peace
of silence.

Drifts of faith
surround,
protect
the house
from winter’s
ice.

The drifts
build up,
form walls,
a warm corral
where sheep
might clump
together.

Meanwhile,
I cuddle,
sing a lullaby
to myself
as the snow
proceeds.

I know
it’s late
but
I want
to sit and watch
while the snow
the snow
builds up.  

Perhaps
I fool
myself
and my dream
of snow
will vanish
when I awake.

If I remember
I  shall
certainly
open the window
and check
for drifts.