A quiet settles on the hills
Augmented by the birds,
Everything is softer --
A time for fewer words.
A time best spent listening
To the voices of the land,
How softly winter guides us
With her wondrous hand.
~ Peter Rinehart
I see that life's uphill
From here on out. My tiny art,
Circling its grief, will have to grow
Joyous the only way it knows how.
From here on out. My tiny art,
Circling its grief, will have to grow
Joyous the only way it knows how.