Icy Praise

It is always fitting to praise you, God.
You speak, the earth obeys.
You spread a blanket of snow on the ground
like wool;
you scatter frost on the grass
like ashes.
You pitch hailstones
like gravel falling from the sky.
You send unimaginable cold,
and then at your command it all melts,
the earth warms,
and streams begin to flow once more.
Wow, Lord God. Wow.

(based on Psalm 147:15-18; photo by image*after)

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