Today Winter wears heavy,
wrapped in woolen layers;
a blinding white stole
graciously covers every flaw.
Time slows, weighted
with whys and hows,
thoughts that beg for
attention in a bitter chill.

But see  – – there it is.
I remain a sign-seeker, looking
for Love messages that appear
at the edge of awareness;
eager for an unanticipated
epiphany that may pause
my questions, renew a day’s
meaning, diminish frailties
and failures that otherwise
disturb my horizon.

The finches have not found
fresh thistle seed I put in the
red house feeder before cold
set in; I hunger so for their
appearance. But praise the lone
lady bug persistently combing
the white kitchen cabinet, certain
she will discover a warm niche.

In the stillness of this winter storm
I am reminded that every day
provides another chance to find
my way home. Why do I continue
to look for the arrows? How will I
otherwise discover the well-worn
path pointing towards Love.

.