the people are blank papyrus
upon which god writes her poems
the people are poems of grace
the poems are a blaze in the snow

the snow grows higher & higher
all the windows are covered
there are winding paths to the doors
but they are hidden under the snow

the people are walking poems
their limbs are covered in language
these bodies are eloquent prayers
burning paths through the snow

this woman, this man, they are poetry
this child is god’s own song
these poems are grace made flesh
written in verse in the snow