Snow by Jamie Allen (December 2008)
WRITTEN FOR THE SALVATION ARMY, CHESTER
I wonder if it snowed 2000 years ago
when teenage girl
gave birth.
I wonder what she felt,
trudging
through God's sand and God-knows-what,
the life of the world
brimming inside her.
Unmarried when she got the news,
branded irresponsible.
Burdened with responsibility.
No room. No bed.
Not even the NHS
can ease her painful journey
or see the painless birth.
No two snowflakes are alike.
A thousand different patterns
yearly melt on me alone.
And only you can see
the equal beauty
of the flakes that get in your eyes,
and your hair,
and your ears.
Glazed, we gaze at frosted scenes
and never think to stop and ask
who those secret patterns touch.
I wonder if the hands that held the son of God
ever felt the beauty
of a special snowflake melt,
purity to purity?
I wonder if it snowed 2000 years ago.
I wonder if it snowed 2000 years ago
when teenage girl
gave birth.
I wonder what she felt,
trudging
through God's sand and God-knows-what,
the life of the world
brimming inside her.
Unmarried when she got the news,
branded irresponsible.
Burdened with responsibility.
No room. No bed.
Not even the NHS
can ease her painful journey
or see the painless birth.
No two snowflakes are alike.
A thousand different patterns
yearly melt on me alone.
And only you can see
the equal beauty
of the flakes that get in your eyes,
and your hair,
and your ears.
Glazed, we gaze at frosted scenes
and never think to stop and ask
who those secret patterns touch.
I wonder if the hands that held the son of God
ever felt the beauty
of a special snowflake melt,
purity to purity?
I wonder if it snowed 2000 years ago.
