I hallelujah
into the valley through dark
pines, past faded
goldenrod and burdock
barely able to breathe
above wholesome hips
of snow. Wind blown
bulrushes huddle near
a softening stream. The canticle
of stony water permeates
my marrow. Divine
crystals drift down upon me
from restless limbs. Looking
back across hilltops
at a trail that disappears
into the depths, I fear
no evil. Blinding
sparkle and sharp
shadows comfort me. I lie
in a calm place,
make an angel, listen
to a choir of sparrows
and a distant train.