I saw the face of God this morning
As I wielded the axe, chopping snow and ice
To free the bucket by the outdoor water tap
While the horses stood nearby, waiting
The sky in the east deepened red
And the sun eased itself from behind the treeline
Its face flushed at such a grand entrance
The crusted snow, hemmed by the rail fence
Held and reflected the garnet glow
And there I beheld
the face of God.
I saw the face of God this evening
As I laid my necklace in its case
On the sill of the east window upstairs
Through the draping boughs of the pines
The round moon hung, a warm translucent luminance
The crusted snow across the field shimmered with a diamond light
Caressing winter’s cheek
And there I glimpsed
the face of God
Every now and again, the seed of a poem cracks open in me. This poem, a contemplative piece, was inspired by a poem I saw elsewhere ( I think by Mary Oliver. I tried to find it but couldn’t – and spent way too much time trying) and by a meditation written by Richard Wagamese in his book entitled “Embers”.
