The Wind Brings Down Its Icy Load

The wind brings down its icy load;
Curtains close across the sky.
Travelers shudder on the road:
There will be shelter by-and-by.
All one has seen and one has sown
Now feeds the feasts of fantasy.
Merriment goes on within;
Trees and candles dance with light.
Without, the world is grey and grim;
Within the house, all is bright.
How might one stand against the wind
But with the joy one brings to it?
The window hints of happiness;
The wanderer walks quickly past.
The week-old ice is treacherous;
The snow is falling thick and fast.
Shelter cannot be a place
For those whose spirits will not rest.
Bells ring through the chilly air;
People purchase gifts on time.
Windows, doorways, front yards bear
Of inner truth the outward sign:
Love beneath commercial cheer;
Loneliness decked out in din.
The season freezes all but love;
Winter grips the waterways.
Upon white meadows nothing moves;
Life sleeps through the nights and days.
O love! At once both flame and fuel,
Light well what meets the inner gaze!
Suppose There Were No Special Times for Greetings
Suppose there were no special times for greetings,
Each day equally a holy day.
All things are holy just because of being
Shards of Being, lightning wrapped in clay.
One might then be merry all the time,
Needing no occasion for good cheer,
Seeing in each moment the sublime,
God born in every child throughout the year.
Reasoning thus, one need not leave bereft
Each everyday not specialized for joy.
Eden is a place we never left,
Though smoke and smog our view of it destroy.
In paradise all time is time for glory,
Nor do the angels choose one sacred story.
God is in all things with grace to be,
Shining in all seasons equally.
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