A poem for the last day of Christmas, the Twelfth Night, and the day of Epiphany.
One poem made up of six cinquain. I published an earlier version of this poem, to the same purpose, here on The Flummoxed for my Christmas 2020 poetry series, “Songs for Christmas.”
“Christmas Sleet and Snow” Cold sleet falling down on a lone rooftop nestled in the hills. That is the place I call home. Is this where God wants me to stay and do my part? I ask, and the answer is, "Yes. It is." Who knew life held so much trouble, sorrow, despair? One knew and conquered all of these: Jesus. The night darkens every day, but one bright night fell darker yet: The sacrifice of our Lord. Christmas, Jerusalem, a bursting forth of life, direct light from a distant star: A Child. Snowflakes falling down on a lone rooftop nestled in the hills. That is the place I call home.