The Valley of Drifted Snow

“Long johns, my friend, we need to put them on to stave the cold”
It feels colder these days than when as kids we built snowmen,
Rode our flexible flyer down the hill, brave and reckless, laughing.
We wake in the morning with stiff fingers and an unusual chill: 40?
New England would laugh a collective laugh at our need for layers.
Yet, here we are, in our pit, in our mire, seeking rock for our feet,
Fingers numb to the bone, the pain we feel hard to diagnose, known
Inside our souls, yet we only share part of the details, what our shame
Forgets to hide as we try and abate our shivering flesh, ripped away
From the bones that once held us upright and strong as we climbed
Back up the hill once our laughter filled the valley of drifted snow.
Are we far from those teenagers now? Without conviction I say yes.
Yet, the 17 year old looks down on me in my wasted state of weakness
And knows he is already the better man and turns to his mother to say
“I will be edgy and cool without a diploma. We have to watch over her.”
He doesn’t know about long johns or laughter in the snow drift valley.
The blades of the flexible flyer have rusted. My sins have overcome me.
I have become poor and needy, and look up to this little Lord, help me
Do not delay your thoughts, chill climbing my bones needs a blanket.
Do not conceal your love, cover me up, so that all might see mercy.

With many thanks to Christine at Brave and Reckless

20 thoughts on “The Valley of Drifted Snow

  1. I’m glad you re-posted this. Perhaps the redemption we seek is not so much with the outer world but with that young man and young woman who we made promises to about who we would grow up to become. We must make our peace with not growing up to exactly who we thought we would- could- be. But there is still time to honor those promises, to dig deep, find the ember of those souls.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I look back on my own New England days, every so often drawing the strength that is needed, to deal with a particular situation- at first astonishing those who have lesser experience, then drawing their denial that things happened as they did, then their scorn-as “We would NEVER handle a situation like THAT!” Of course they wouldn’t. They never lived through New England winters. But I digress- and, yes, 40 degrees can, at least initially, bring out the comforter for the bed.

    Liked by 1 person

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