The Hermit - 9

Fool thought to herself one cold wintry day.

'I am tired, and not in an ordinary way.

This weariness deep in my core can be found.'

The snowflakes fell silent and soft to the ground.

 

'Come here.' Called the Wood with the voice of a lover.

'Come close and be held in the arms of my cover.'

For thirty-eight nights, in red leaves she lay curled,

and the snow hush was all that there was in this world. 

And when it was time for her to return,

she went out with a lamp and found flower and fern. 

 

For broken, we may enter, 

more deeply darkest night.

To better see the might of God, 

in small things by the light.