Steppe’s winters long and cold
Kept us indoors as it trolled
Snow’s magic blanket on our yard
Replenished soil with a guard

Through the windows we peeked outside
Watching snowfall’s beauty hide
All the muddy ugly vibe
On the street where lived the scribe 

Soon the snow began to fade
Snowdrops mysteriously made
Their way to fight season’s charade
Brought by a long winter’s raid

When shall we walk out the winter door
Without falling on the floor
Before the mud appears again 
Before next time we say Amen

“The scribe in heaven wrote the words
Musicians played the endless cords
Siblings tucked in bed and warm
Next to their mother in the storm”

Mother’s prayers floating home
Through the galaxies to heaven’s throne
Through the blanket made of stars
Reaching Almighty’s hearing ears 

January 23, 2020
Remembering the snowdrops and mother’s prayers

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