Winters Own Godsend.
Oh. Snowdrop, Perfect, Fragile, Pure;
Why Do You Bless this Season,
Which is Harsh Cold and Raw.
Why do You Raise Your Innocent Head,
And Bow it Down, as Though in Prayer.
Could it be that You’re Gods’ Small Blessing;
Bringing Warmth, to The Chill Cold Air?
For Me You are The Promise,
The Rainbow in The Sky;
The White Dove that Brings The Olive Branch,
Proclaiming, Life Can Never Die.
For You, and You Alone, are The Snowflake;
That Rises From The Ground.
So Bold and Indifferent to All,
That Can Be Seen Around.
I Can Only Relate to one Person,
Coherent to Your Form.
That is Jesus of Nazareth;
Whose Birth Was Virgin born.
He Took on Our Transgressions,
Was Despised and Rejected By Men;
The Ground Took Hold of His Blood,
Though From Death, He Rose Again!
For All My Brothers and Sisters, Snowdrop;
While You are Bowing Your Head Low,
Say a Prayer, For Us Sinners,
That The Warmth of Jesus, We Might Know!
Scripture: Isaiah Chapter 1 Verse 18.
“Come now, and let us reason together,” Says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, They shall be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They shall be like wool”.