Snow has fallen, slurring my footsteps,
skewing my pathway to prayer.
Only become as a child, you say:
trade caution for the headlong hurtle;
build snowmen, not as idols but monument to
the meeting of flesh and raw air.
Snow has fallen, slurring my footsteps,
skewing my pathway to prayer.
Only become as a child, you say:
trade caution for the headlong hurtle;
build snowmen, not as idols but monument to
the meeting of flesh and raw air.