The sky a vivid red
Like refugees from afar
The clouds sparkle with crimson.
The frost thick and crunchy,
Turns red roof’s white.
Whilst underfoot the grass snaps.
Clear morning sky of winter
Yet even now the rain
So need fails to come.
Today the church is called to dress
Against the chills of men
Compassion, kindness, loneliness,
Worn as mark of holiness
Seeking in the world of want
The footprints of the saviour
Clear like your frost prints in the grass
A path for us to follow.
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