There is nothing
like the clean of
snow to press reset
on scape of land,
covering all the
wounds that lay

If only human
hearts were repaired
so easy.

We can’t undo
the scars that
have been done,
or take some
retroactive road
not taken,
or find our way
out of a barren
winter wandering
before it is time.

But we can
take strength
in our ability
to see the hope
beyond the scars,
and believe in our
capacity to find
our own snow
swept grace.

And we can know,
that this too,
-this vast
terrain composed
of craggy steps
and forgiving light-
this too, is simply
what it means
to be human.