trees with no leaves reach toward a distant sky
gilded icon edges and crosses held on high
whispered words of wisdom praise works of ancient right.
a breeze blows the branches sway between the day and night
the frosted window high above embroidered alter white
an eye upon the prayers keeping ritual in sight
hands that move across the faceless numbers on the clock
and count the aging spirits of the faithful in the flock
how far the branches reach toward the distant sombre sky
in hopes of finding nurture for future paths on high
their fallen leaves are gathered and cover frozen ground
the rituals renewed the branches heaven bound

 

i'm rollin' down the highway with my radio on

 

oh, katherine, it's been so long, lift up your snowy veil

 

i think about the winter snow, thinking soon that i should go

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all content copyright m.siltanen 2005
msiltanen at shaw dot ca