~*~To the One Far Away, on the Night of Yuletide~*~

Does it snow where you are now?
Do you look out on a winter
morning and see the first snow
resting fresh and soft
as a dream of sugared joy?
Do you sit by the fireplace
of an evening, light candles
and see my face smiling in
the brightest flame?
I think you are happy; often
I hear you whisper to me
when I light the first candle
of the Yuletide, and the children
are in bed, and I sit wondering
if you can see the snowfall
and if you run out to laugh at
the flakes as a happy pup.
That one candle glows
more high and bright
than all others, just as you
yourself, and I hear your voice
as a carol in the dusk
or as the first snowfall
blanketing my questioning heart
in beauty and delight;
surely you are happy
as I could not make you
however much I wished.
I'd know it if you weren't.
The stars wouldn't shine so thick
and knowing in the winter sky
the snow wouldn't fall
so tender on the boughs of fir
and pine and holly, nor gleam
so white and pure, and
the candles wouldn't bless the room
so warm and cheery, and
the flames couldn't dance
so gladsome on the Yule log
if you were looking out
on a snowless slope through eyes
of soreness and want.
My heart knows you are happy
whether you can see the snow
or no. I wish only
that it could have happened
in this room, with the candles
gathered like the shadows of stars
and that my eyes didn't need
so many tears
to see your face among them....

Does it snow where you are now?

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