There's something of the magic
In the stillness of the night
When snow has been fast-falling
And the world is drenched in white.
When the air is soft and muffled,
And the cold feels almost warm
And every set of tracks and prints
Buried by the storm.
Nothing out there's moving
And I could see it if it was -
The brightness glows from flake to flake
A billion lacy stars.
He wove it all, with weather
With stormy clouds and air just right -
God Himself lays down this blanket,
God Himself sings silent night.
No comments:
Post a Comment