Holiest

Snowflakes swirl oh, so free
And oh, so lightly land;
Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns
That dies away so grand.

For God is not inside your head,
Nor grim-mouthed red-tailed saint,
And foolish prayer lies fully dead
Beneath your red lips’ paint.

No angel sits upon your tongue
To still your life-love speech,
Which proves that you have kept you young
Beyond tradition’s reach.

True pureness of desire does shine
Upon your throat so fair
And guilty cross has sunk to pine
It could not clasp you there.

Your parents made you go to church,
You knelt, but not in soul;
No ghost was in your mental search,
Your perch was self-control.

Now in the world and on your own
You’re more than atheist—
Won lover of this life alone
That sun and cloud have kissed.

Snowflakes swirl oh, so free
And oh, so lightly land;
Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns
That melts away so grand!

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