The Winter Divine

Of cold wind, plenty,
 Of warm Hearth, 
it trickles through numb fingers.
I find myself, looking, far
Beyond thin, Bare 
Branches
Beyond

Beyond the Veil
 Of a Midwinter day, of 
Stripped air and
Whisps of clouds, into 
the pale Blue
Beyond

I find, not many, but One
not by name, not by knowing, not by 
 anything save
Love