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Thursday, February 13, 2014

For years I loved to write poetry, but lately only a blizzard brings it out of me. I'm thinking of submitting this to a literary magazine looking for poetry. Tell me what you think. Suggestions invited.

The Cardinal

Snow falling, falling from on high
Downward spiraling
Layering over layers of soiled snow.

Blanketing the memory of paths well trodden,
cloaked beneath their myriad of
grace filled snowflakes.

The grey world turns white out.
Winter escapes no one
this year, yet...

A blood red cardinal perches
on a snow covered limb,
while flocks of small birds scurry and flit about
engaged in an eating frenzy.

But the cardinal does not descend,
having done so, once is enough.
He is no longer driven by hunger or want.

The little ones remind me of self.
Feeding at the trough of life.
Hoarding all they can eat.
Never ceasing from activity,
but never fully satisfied.
They return.
Time and time again.

All under the watchful eye of the
blood splashed cardinal, hung in the tree.
Singing in spite of the storm.

I look up and ...

His blood drips on me,frozen in time and place.
Like snow falling on cedars
It turns my body as white as a naked newborn.

I am embraced in His snow white folds,
covering a multitude of muddied tracks,
now buried beneath the snowflakes falling endlessly...endless..

Into eternity I will fly away with you--
My bright red cardinal,
but for now I will take shelter under your wings and
let your pure white snow blanket me
in the blood red droplets of
love and forgiveness.