snow

I am feeling a huge snow storm. The heavy laden trees. The purple and pure white light. The leaden sky. And the silence. I feel myself putting on my new white snow boots. They're heavy on my feet. I see snowflakes like large white feathers falling over everything and obscuring my vision. The world is clean. The snow pours and pours. All day the snow falls. The light in the house is dim, but we build a fire in the stove and the air is warm and dry. The electricity goes out, but we've got the fire. After exploring the outdoors for a while I come in and eat a piece of toast and drink a cup of tea. Then I set myself up on the couch near the fire and begin to read a beautiful old book, printed in 1901, of Dante Rossetti translating Dante Alighieri, La Vita Nuova. Large crashes of snow fall on the roof from the snow building up on the trees. In the woods I see that all the limbs are bending low under their robes of snow. And I am here, brought by God to the place where I need to be to heal the world. All God's little children say Amen. This is the new kind of prayer I've learned from out of an old book. Don't ask God for any particular thing but use your emotions to feel the Divine Presence. Poets have learned to develop their emotions very keenly and therefore are the perfect people to use this