Landscape broods

A landscape broods
Solemnly in the distant dark.

Tall foreboding trees abide
Heavy laden with snow -- as if waiting.

A hut nestled near the forest,
Moonlight hidden by the dark--
A man lightly dressed walks the wet path
Holding an umbrella high above himself,
He moves towards a humble snow-covered dwelling.

All is still ... hauntingly!
Nothing, nothing echoes in the solitude,
Except the sound of wet snow
Aching under the man's quick-moving feet.
He--a wanderer humming
A light tune in the night,
His mind made clear
As if a limpid pool in every
Lake and stream to holy chants.

I love the light from the inner lamp!
Guarding us from the flatteries
Of a passionate, worldly man.

Poem by Eva-Maria Hogrefe ✍️