At nearly noon,
it felt like early morning.
Or perhaps late afternoon,
so dark and gloomy were the skies.

The wind and temperature
didn’t help much,
cutting through my jeans and sweatshirt
as if to say: “Your warmth serves no purpose here.”

Yet in spite of its mocking
I laughed, and sat down.
Cold? It’s above freezing
in late December, Northwest Georgia.

I’ve laid down and made snow angels
in sub-zero now-that-is-REALLY-cold cold.
I’ve sat on cross-country skis and eaten lunch at +1 degree
on a sun-swept Utah mountain peak.

THIS is not cold. It’s hardly even uncomfortable.
Yet I do not linger long in the woods this day.
Micro-garbage plastic, blown by the stiff breeze,
dances past my feet.

It reminds me: I must clean
and prepare,
and sanctify,
and make this property ready
for that time when warmth, love, and Light
shall banish and sweep away
all this grey cold
and darkness.