The snow and ice that blankets all you see
From your bedroom window, my grandma Elsie,
Might hide the secrets of the soil and grass,
The seeds that wait for winter’s wrath to pass.
But the secrets of your heart are lovelier still:
Your ninety-six years cannot begin to fill
Eternity’s horn of plenty that spills out
God’s grace like rain after a long drought.
When spring has come and gone, the sun in glory
Will add another chapter to the unending story
Of Karl and Elsie fetching a pail of water,
When I see your smile in the face of my daughter.
But now we sit here looking through the window
At frozen things and ice and old snow.
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