In the Dead of Winter

The icy touch of winter snow,

Caresses earth with cold stiff hand,

Falling to blanket world below:

A pure white shroud that drapes the land.

Frost sinks to grant its kiss so cold,

But colder kiss is still to come.

The crunch of snow breaks Peace’s hold,

Like crunch of bones when life is done.

The angel’s whispers harm no flakes

That fall on what the soul has fled.

He carries Soul in soft embrace,

On wings that do not wake the dead.

A chill ends spring with biting sword,

But like seeds wait these dormant men.

Grant unto them respose, O’ Lord,

For they shall rise from sleep again.

Til dawn of spring their spirits hushed,

As covered in Snow’s dust they lie;

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,

Remember you shall die.