stumbling out from under the steeple,

snow-flakes soft-fall silently

blankly blanketing streets in sheets of snow

and the grim and ghastly greyness of the globe

is white-washed a wonderous winter-white

and my grim and ghastly scarlet-sin

is vanished and vanquished

by the heavens’ heap├Ęd flakes of forgiveness.

the snow-hid sun sinks.

still sweet salvation’s snow-sheet

shines splendid in sparkling starlight.

the midnight moon glances askance

(through the jazz-blue atmosphere,

as the still-falling snow floats)

at the still-falling jazz-notes

gliding gently down on earmuffed ears.

dancing softly upon the delicate dreams

which underlie my feet,

i dance down the street

my snow-white soul pirouetting on the ice.

still dancing the steps of salvation

i rise from my dream-deep snow-stained sleep

to find the sun rising through

the still-falling jazz-notes of the snow,

battling its way through the bebop blue

upward unto the pinnacle of day.

and in the soft-snow-sheeted streets

the world walks its wayward way

over the bride-white blanket

of my snow-baptised being,

their blinded eyes scarcely seeing

the dirt-encrusted damage trod into me

by the unwashed souls of their dusty feet.

so i walk the winding way,

believing through the long dark nights

that come the morning the sun will rise,

and battle back through the weather’s winds

toward that snow-lined steeple

whence falls the sin-silencing snow.


(i’ve never seen so much snow falling.)

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