little bit of lagniappe

reflecting on everyday grace

Morning Snow

This morning, I’m in love with the  miracle of snow.  I, with my little black kitty huddled in the nook of my arm and chest, took a silent stroll in the pouring snow at the break of dawn.  These words came to me as we looked into the sky, and let white petals cool our blood-warm faces, and let mystery soothe our weary souls.

Morning Snow

Just when we least expect it,

or want it,

but when we need it most,

snow comes

and quiets our souls.

It covered me this morning —

patches of a blanket

formed from grandmother’s hands,

soft, known.


Her delicate dance

on my brow

felt like a lullaby

that’s not been sung in thirty years.

And yet, I knew the tune,

and my heart sang

forgotten words.


Her falling,

desperate, lonely, full, and silent,

made all the world

stand still,

in awe

and in love

with mystery again.



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One thought on “Morning Snow

  1. Vanessa on said:

    You are SUCH a talented poet, my dear!

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