Outside -
a shovel scrapes;
panic.
No.
I want to be the one,
I want to be the blessing.

Layer up;
hurriedly.

Dig, scrape, lift,
labor -
for me and for my neighbor.
Let me be the blessing.

Don't watch,
don't look,
I need this more than you.

Irritants
give way to shame;
overcome by my own humanity.
Even my best attempts are ugly.

No stirring, no movement.
Apart from me all is still.
I labor.
But the world waits.

Quick to bless?
No, quick to mess.

My shovel only interrupts a work that is not yet complete.
Neglecting
to see the smooth subtle beauty
before it's destroyed by human frustration;
all for me and for my neighbor.

The snow keeps falling.
It covers over all I've done,
and gives me the grace,
the space,
to try again.

Outside -
the snow falls;
peace.
I wait.