Mark Green's Atheopaganism Blog

The avalanche took our home.

A wave of ice drove us before it,
And everything we thought we had we loaded on our backs
And fled, but no luck: the cold fist ground us under.
Home. Years. Love. Work. Health.
We cried as it passed over us, scraping,
Pinned in place, locked in dim blue light:
Frozen.

The avalanche took our hope.

We lay motionless, pockets collapsing about us
Stripping away more and more, and we did nothing:
Only gazed upward, and mourned, and remembered
And night came, and all disappeared
But a smear of muted stars.

And it wasn’t until the sun returned, and murky light
Bathed us in the how and where we were
A sprout insisted beneath my hand.

I got an arm free, and reached. Scraped. Swam.
And when we emerged with our poor remnants and our lives
The white expanse was dotted with green:
Life indomitable, pressing into morning light.