12-3 Stilling

Stilling

Snow anemones sag to crystalline lawns,
windy gusts clearing their branches.

A cardinal seems a cherry on a frosty limb,
fluffing at a female peeking
from a juniper bough.

As I stare through the picture window,
the snowy frame presses my lens
and when eyes close,

the white rectangle lingers
and fades into inner pitch.

Thoughts swell, burst into
a polar-capped squirrel’s nest,
a snow crystal fused on glass…

barely breathing… silent… still…

until You fill all.

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