prayer - 8

no gusts
no bursts of cold wind sleet
just an unwavering wall
of Arctic air

the tired monk banks
the fire up
lights another lamp

prayer - 7

the tried monk
becomes aware
of basement noise
not the skittering
of mice this time

just the soft
sweet singing
of the novices

a gentle
happy sound
coming up
through the vents

prayer - 6

the old coleman stove
pops to life
the tired monk
pulls his toque down
huddles
 waits
for the heat to build

a gust drops
a skiff of snow
down over bowed head

prayer - 5

sun sets
just a dash
of warm colour
through the forest

cold seeps
in slow and steady
temple dogs
snuggle
in deeper

the tried monk
lights the hearth
flame