A Feather in Winter

A Feather in Winter
by Michele Morin

“The feather flew, not because of anything in itself, but because the air bore it along.
Thus am I a feather on the breath of God.”  Hildegarde of Bingen

Sister Hildegarde knew
we are all
“feathers on the breath of God,”
and it’s an image I
struggle to live toward.

Today,
on this particular January afternoon,
time-bound and booted,
my feet crash through snowy crust
in a jolting cadence
as I follow my granddaughter’s delighted experiments with
cold and gravity.

Making not a dent in the snowy crust,
she travels like a feather,
her tiny lightness encased in a purple snowsuit.

Puffy and buoyant,
it catches her whenever she tumbles,
unfazed as the falling flakes that
land on our hats and our lashes.

Lord, may I, too, learn
to hover, held
on your breath,
falling forward
in blessed lightness.

 

Michele Morin is a teacher, reader, writer, and gardener who does life with her family on a country hill in Maine. She has been married to an unreasonably patient husband for 30 years, and together they have four sons, two daughters-in-love, and three adorable grandchildren. Michele is active in educational ministries with her local church and delights in sitting at a table surrounded by women with open Bibles.

Published by Sarah F

I'm a simple girl who loves words, God, my family and nature. It is my hope to inspire everyone, whether it's with a smile, encouraging words or just a listening ear.

7 thoughts on “A Feather in Winter

  1. Michele, this is just beautiful. I am joining you in praying that I would learn to hover, held on His breath, falling forward in blessed lightness. Such a beautiful image to keep in my thoughts today!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Michele, this greatly speaks to my heart right now, the imagery is beautiful! How much we miss when we fill our calendars with busyness!

    Like

  3. I feel lighter already, just having read your poem, Michele! Each day we need a few moments preserved to just savor our surroundings, the pleasant stimuli impacting our senses–much like your granddaughter savored the experience of snow. Lovely and meaningful writing as always!

    Like

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