Questions

Christian Century, Feb 8, 2003 by Sarah Rossiter

Questions

   Snow falls like secrets in the night,
   And morning finds the world changed
   To white on white. Inscrutable.
   Now you see it. Now you don't.
   And so I wonder; is it true
   That yesterday in muted woods
   Bright bittersweet assaulted me?
   Bunched bursting berries, drops of blood
   Flowed like flame though tangled twigs,
   Blazed liquid gold against grim sky.
   So beautiful, and yet it kills.
   Slow, relentless, silent, sharp,
   Vines creep and strangle, piercing bark,
   All hidden now in virgin snow.
   But does that mean it isn't so?