Winter Unrelenting

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A mystical mist of cold air and warm, of thin ice,

and reflections of snow maidens floating

freezing the air,

the river goes solid, surrendering.

And we behold the glory

of winter

unrelenting.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies 

Mystical Snowstorm

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As I watch from the back of our a house, a mystical snowstorm embraces, engulfs the top of the mountain,

following the ridgeline, wind howling, raging into swirls, some sleet falling, tearing

at the bare limbs of the forest, and I wonder can there be any beauty in the middle of a storm?

Or should we expect the fire of an ancient prophet, or maybe visions of a flaming sword?

A few minutes later a quiet snow descends, reaching our neighborhood, as the wind moves softly now,

and God speaks, this time using the pine trees.

           

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: We can see the mountains from where we live. Storms begin there and move in our direction.