Dressed in White

By Roger Bushman

Life is filled with distractions.

Pivot points.

Paradoxes.

Periodic impasses.

I try to leave my troubled thoughts by walking.

But even the twilight air,

Cold and crisp,

Cannot resolve the war of words

Within my mind.

There is a padded softness

In the crunching snow.

Muffled sounds.

Mingled thoughts.

Muted tones.

Massive tree trunks—I follow them upward

Trying to express a wordless prayer,

And through a network of numberless branches

I see a puzzled sky.

I wonder.

I wait.

Silently I turn

And follow the meandering trail of solitary footsteps

Across the deepening snow.

The earth seems simple

Dressed in white.

Serene and grandly dignified—reminding me

Of sacred ties.

And templed thoughts trickle through my mind

Thawing for a moment

My icy indifference.

The world is simple dressed in white.

The snow becomes a blanket of warmth.

And wrapped in it

I head for home.

“Lone Peak,” by Al Rounds