Winter trudges on. I'd much prefer
endless days of rain upon rain
than this unceasing grey. I'm in love
with the notion, the fact of water
falling from the sky. When it freezes
and we are blessed (yes, blessed) with hail
I am enraptured. What was that the priest
did with his censer at benediction?
Incense, holy water, holy smoke.
A blessing. A part of Catholicism
I won't reject.
and trudge it does.
ReplyDeletealthough, I think I detected just the faintest scent of hope in the air today. Yep. Hope.