BEING ALONE
cascading snow; gentle, falls ****** pure
in silence, with no regard to the ground
below, random, already filling in where
no footsteps, before or after go, to lead
elsewhere, another time and space the
winds will whisper, their voiceless voice
muted, with no one here, all unwatched
by anyone, for the naked branches are
poised;  will reach up skyward; as palms
outstretched in readiness for; to ask for
God's grace, having their most humbled
hearts filled, tonight, the  humanity of;
and the waiting begins, only I the one, an
observer of, I see, things seen and unheard.

by Michael Perry