Winter Sunset*

 

   I had hoped to be writing about crocus and daffodils by now, but winter seems reluctant to leave this year.

   Since the ground is still covered with several inches of snow, I thought I would use one last poem of winter.

 

 

Winter Sunset*

 

 

 

 

                          Not for winter

                      the raucous colors

                      of other seasons:

                      no blazing reds,

                      oranges and yellows.

 

                    Cold, brittle

                      days demand

                      classic elegance.

 

                          Muted tones

                      invite quiet

                      contemplation,

                      whispering of

                      Love's subtle Presence.

 

         * from Fields of Grace, Everyday Encounters with the Holy 

            by Cathy Scherer Stubbs, (c) 2011

 

 







Cemetery in Winter*

 

 

 Cemetery in Winter*
 

 

 

                            

                            Lives valued               

                      and remembered;

                      brief moments in time

                      marked by stone.

 

                     A holy place

                      of quiet reverence

                      where fragile,

                      sacred vessels

                      are laid to rest.

 

 

* from Fields of Grace, Everyday Encounters with the Holy

    (c) Cathy Scherer Stubbs, 2011





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Breath of God

The Breath of God

      At this time of year there is often a fog that forms overnight and in the morning everything is painted with a thin layer of frost.  The smallest branches and pine needles are coated one by one - there are no clumps. 
 
     When I find it difficult to believe that God could possibly be mindful of so many individuals, I think of the fog and picture it as the Breath of God surrounding each of us and covering every aspect of our lives with Love.