A Son's First Snow
A Son's First Snow
By: Tom Wright
12/4/98
Few memories can compare,
to that of a son's face aglow.
After being carefully bundled,
to play in his first snow.
Keeping his young eyes aloft,
he'd catch a snowflake for me.
Yelling, "I caught a big soft one,
hurry Dad, come and see."
Upon opening his tiny fist,
where but a damp spot was found.
He'd say, "Where did it go, Dad"?
perhaps it fell to the ground.
Unable to reason in his young mind,
he found it hard to understand.
How snow could pile up on the ground,
yet melt in his small hand.
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The seemingly endless questions,
his young mind held in store.
Such as, where does snow come from?
And can, God, make lots more?
I tried so earnestly to explain,
with language he might understand.
And as he so intently listened,
he reached up and took my hand.
God's, snow is to the Earth a blanket,
for it now sleeps and takes it's rest.
Then with spring, all will come alive,
to once again give us, God's, best.
The flowers that look dead are dormant,
but once again will put forth roots.
And the trees that now stand barren,
will sprout buds and set new shoots.
The brown grass that now lies hidden
beneath the winter's blanket of snow.
Once more will take on a new life,
turning green and starting to grow.
Most birds have now migrated further south,
to be returning when it's nigh spring.
To build their nests high in the trees,
there to lodge and for us sing.
I can't explain just how things happen,
but when you're older you'll understand.
Why we must trust and hold to, Jesus,
the same way you're holding to my hand.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2019
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