The Winter Wanderer: a Christmas Poem

The Winter Wanderer

* * *

Dark, the tide of cloud stretched out

across the western sky

blotting out the twinkling stars

in the pale blue sea on high

A mournful wind was crying 'cross

the glistening snowy plains

ghosting through the pines and

stealing through the window panes

Emptiness, quite tangible, had

gripped the winter world

And frost in biting patterns

on the frozen trees was swirled

Then, with grim resolve he pulled

his patched-up jacket tight

He could see the shape of town ahead

in a line of dimming lights

Down a slope, so weary now

He stumbled backward twice

Every step now bound him

like a fetter to the ice

“Oh, God above,” at last he cried

and to the ground he fell

On hands and knees he crawled

as if to flee the threat of Hell

“I've wandered far against what I

have always known is right

And though I'm trying to return

I cannot make it through the night

If You have loved me as they say

then my soul at last be won

if You reach down to save me now-

'Thy will, not mine, be done'”

He stood, and swaying in the wind

He saw the wooden door-

a church stood there, he could have sworn

had not been there before

With a shout he tugged the unlatched door

and stumbled through inside

A praise from wind-chapped lips he gave

for warmth in which to hide

So through the night he slept in peace

his sorrows far away

And in the morning light he saw

a shining Christmas Day

* * *

(Poem property of Emmarayn Redding.  All rights reserved.  Photo taken from the public domain)