Heavenly Scent

Crisp and clean, the winter wind carries it.
I was told that the snow aloft is kin
To the scent of what heaven would smell like.
In the infinite of it all, it knit.


And then there was verisimilitude.
I knew there was no other truth to it.
The faith the belief that absolute trust.


I could not deny the passion befit
Of a revelation that was given
To the likes of me from one so dreamlike.
Winter’s Scent – and I am still so unfit.