In those early hours
before the light of night surrendered to the dark of day
there fell a morning covering before any soul had woken
In heavy holiness
lithe leaps of delight leave no blemish in the snow
brushstrokes of white paint on white paper
The muddy boots of self-glory locked away and forgotten
no unchastely footprints that call only to themselves
Perfect sight reveals what only perfect eyes can see
No self proclaimed experts at hand to document and record
No lively exchange of hot air to melt the moment
No Peter at the transfiguration
Invitations sent only to awestruck onlookers who won't sell and abuse
Uncomplicated in their rejoicing
Secure in simplicity
Content
not striving
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