Winter Scape Prayer

Make me the clearest water, a river’s modest current, transparent to the Sun’s arms, wintry cool though not frozen, winding lighthearted, all through out the original land.

Make me crisp as linen, left to dry in the early winter breeze, to the matured caress of the daystar, my real lover.

Give me if you may, the freshness of a dutiful morning, softly sloping towards the distance, all the inner children running towards me, frisky as home dogs.

I hope for the scent of sunbathed hills, and the bite of sharp frost on my cheeks, the sky cleared of most clouds, infinite blue envisioned up and beyond.

Make me more than a sketch, define this impression of a woman blurred against the straw fields, and sign this fine portrait as your own.

Allow me the natural clarity of tall grasses, weed, obedient to the wind, free, wild again, but wise.

Offer me up to the winter sky, let his frigid breath embrace this aching body. Its ok, we belong, the bite is no longer when I can melt to the chill. Now I walk on gladly, warm hands, warm feet.

Crisp linen hung, swaying naturally, bleached, and the modest river our region’s pride, our last name in its winding current.

Allow me then to strip away the clouds forever, and stay in my perfect winter scape.