The old snow falls anew
And purer than before
It falls much like people do
To grace the earthen floor.
It melts and then flattens there
And as the sunshine cuts the air
It lays its weary head to bear
And weep the morning dew.
But lifting up its eyes from earth
To heaven, comes its springtime hope
Barren, browned, the ground gives birth
What once was a cold and frozen slope.
That snow which months held firm and rife
Now cradles everlasting life—
Dissolving death, supplanting strife
And proving winter’s worth.
A Different Kind Of Speaking 