A Poem by Drake Hernandez

Once below, a firmament’s face raced ahead a momentous pace,

though now, as wounds a drop are thick, does Winter’s bond untimely stick.

Waters once ran free now lost grace: Conscience, Brace and Lace all lack haste,

as Faith’s own fervor chills in wick, deprived of drop and youthful trick.

Widened are the cracks in close kin, for your currents draw them within

to lakes of one's own heaven — tempt is ill produced, good will exempt.

Lesser streams apart flow broken, falling tandem, now lay frozen;

complexion mirrored, still unkempt, of Nature’s order all descent.

Callused dwell the streams of strayed cries — save for sun on static clout eyes:

a falsehood melting beam now sprung upon your frigid screens far-flung.

Brooks apprize, the meekest first rise, flow in modest compromise, wise

in wade resigned as one now clung towards sea: the first of lessons sung.

Winter’s darkest prime will soon end, fragments part and jointly find mend,

in newly outward cordial pour on earthly thaw forevermore.

Therefore, bear this biting slough rend, yesterday's floe this day upend,

let my own drafting spring implore the Savior’s ardor you cry for.

Thawing

What It Might Grow