I lift mine eyes unto the hills,
from whence cometh the tree that
gave of the wood for this fire,
and the gift of this pitch-crackling,
dog-snoring, soul-warming, winter
moment of peace.
Lord, Master of beauty and this moment,
thank you for bringing me here.
You have come to my rescue again and again.
You know my comings and goings.
May I be eternally grateful.
Published in Verse-Virtual, March 2018