Winter Light in Darkness
By John Herlihy

The darkness inhales the woody scent of pine;
The darkness exhales a quiet mystery sublime.
Not a sight to be seen in the depths of the night,
Not a spark, not a glimmer, nothing shines outright.
Behind thick clouds lies hidden the bone shine of the moon,
Waiting to quiet anxious hearts and disperse the gloom.
Hush, sweet serenity, I hear an angel, I see a ghost,
The stars of the night seem to descend as a heavenly host.

The beauty, the wonder, the perfect storm of snow;
It appears out of the darkness with its unearthly glow.
Falling on fir trees, on meadows, on forest pines,
Covering every living surface with the cloak of ermines.
It appears within the night with a million sightless eyes;
Crystal flakes fill the floating air unable to tell any lies,
Stirring the heart with the magic of its enchantment,
Filling the soul with a comforting blanket of contentment.

It makes no difference who or what age we are;
We could be the old man in the moon or a distant star.
The first time we see snow and anytime thereafter,
Stripped of our pretentions to become children full of laughter.
To fill heavens above and earth below with such mystical wonder,
Casting off our anxieties and fears into a dark land, far asunder.
The snowflakes are white with their own luminescent light;
Winter light in silhouette against the sheer blackness of night.

It is snowing heavily now, plain and simple, on this occasion;
We tremble with the night, in awe of this mysterious invasion.
The first flakes hover in suspension, then sting to the touch,
Like first raindrops with their moist wetness that feels too much.
Streaming down the face of night seemingly with a torrent of tears,
Every snowfall a first snowfall that I have witnessed over the years.
The silence is soothing, like murmuring waves dying on the shore;
I reach further into my imagination; but can wish for nothing more.

Dressed now for a wedding, earth’s nakedness covered all around;
I listen intently for any sound; but silence reigns most profound.
The world is miraculously painted in the brushstrokes of peace,
While all the people nearby have been given in life a new lease.
At first darkness where nothing happens, only icy chill as a blight;
Then something happens, it is like snow; it is snow outside my door.
Falling down everywhere in the darkness with its winter light,
Blowing in the night as celestial diamond dust across earth’s floor.