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Winds of a Frozen Wasteland

Winds blowing down the mountain silver capped so cold, 
Howling fiercely with a herculean ferocity rarely ever seen. 
 
A cold snap cuts straight and deep now to one’s very bones, 
As one’s body trembles tremulously teetering toward a fall.
 
Beloved baby black crows roost inside their snug warm nest, 
As a hail-driven breath spits its hardened bullets piercing now.  

On this frozen wasteland of one’s soul—a lone rooster crows,
Seeing, feeling soft sunlight rays stroking his proud chest pure.

He’s puffed up now breathing boldly the brisk cold morning air;
Singing with wondrous conviction true of daylight’s awakening.

This lone rooster knows the gifts of nature’s frozen wasteland,
As the warm sun’s ebullient eyes flash bright inside dark jewels.

A crystal fountain baptized with Heaven’s own purest light,  
Appears as the sun warms a land frozen nightly by the winds. 

Dewdrops cometh forth as those teardrops of life growing anew,
With brightest beginnings for God’s hallowed frozen wasteland!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 1, 2016
(Unrhymed Couplet)

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