An Untitled Poem

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”.