I Must Stay Home from Mass

Evergreen trees and my heart are full
amid raving beauty: snow-silence. Unplowed
roads bid me, “stay home.” Perhaps danger
lurks in the unseen ice. A message
from God? or a sign? How can that be?

I am praying, seeking reflection, asking God
for His light, when—although unexpected
and strangely wild!—love sizzles, warming
my heart. Today—looking deeper than snowdrifts—
I examine my soul, let peace enter. The thrill
of my song springs from God-induced, nature-
muffled quietude, ever-changing, ever-new.

How can anyone deny God’s existence and not
praise Him to the heavens, when snow is falling,
creating a fresh landscape with every blown flake?
Hungry birds eat from provided feeders. Clouds enter;
the sun comes and goes, shining brightly
on my concrete Madonna, who stands on the deck,
cold, snow-covered, but pointing to the Way,

as always. No one has walked in the yard’s virgin
snow, where today no means yes, I must stay home
from Mass. My church pew will hold only dust,
yet there is no breach in my relationship with God.
That would come not as sin, not as snow.