"The Snow Job"
Now that I'm on top of this hill,
my face is being stung
by swarms of snowflakes
busy making the hilltop
bedtime blanket of white.
And there - - down in the distant night,
I see a light, and it is getting bigger
and then splits into *two* lights;
so it is getting closer . . .
coming at me
in a swirling cloud of white.
Then I hear the mighty engine's
rumbling accompanied by a muffled
grumbling of the blade scraping asphault,
tumbling dirt and snow from the way.
So, no . . . it's not a ghost, but the
WOW-plow passing by (o:
But it is coming straight toward *me*;
so I hurry to get off the road,
stumbling until I have waded
up to my thighs in the roadside drift . . .
where still I am
right in the path of that swath.
But the truck turns out and around me,
then stops (all the power and authority,
and He s-t-o-p-p-e-d, for *me*!)
Then the passenger door swings open >
"Com-ON, get IN!!" He calls; so I
trip and scurry to the passenger door,
where I need to kneel on the running board,
before I can crawl and haul myself
up into the passenger seat;
and here I am
kissed by the warmth of the cab,
while treated to the intriguing delight
of seeing all that blowing coldness
of this world's flaky snow job
*now* being bounced from
right before my eyes,
while I just rest and ride
with the Master at the wheel (o:
"'Come to Me,
all you who labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.
Take My yoke upon you and
learn from Me,
for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For My yoke is easy
and My burden is light.'" (Matthew 11:28-30)