Snow!
This morning we have been blessed with the gift of snow. Those of you who live in colder places may have already had your fill for the season, but here in Tennessee it is a rare commodity. Snow has been falling here at a steady pace throughout the morning and though the ground is still too warm for most of it to stick, I have not yet given up hope that a thin blanket remains possible. For now, I will continue to enjoy watching it fall, while giving thanks that I have no need to go anywhere today. Southerners tend to drive poorly when it snows and suddenly get the urge to buy massive amounts of milk and bread. Home is the safest place to be.
In honor of the snow is a poem by Anne Sexton, from her collection,The Awful Rowing Toward God.
Snow
Snow,
blessed snow,
comes out of the sky
like bleached flies.
The ground is no longer naked.
The ground has on its clothes.
The trees poke out of sheets
and each branch wears the sock of God.There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
I bite it.
Someone once said:
Don’t bite till you know
if it’s bread or stone.
What I bite is all bread,
rising, yeasty as a cloud.There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
Today God gives milk
and I have the pail.
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