New Beginning

Midnight, crow whooshed past my window,
Passed and headed for the bare tree, lone,
The winter night chilled to the bone;
The crow's black feathers icy at their tips.

Evil rang the air, a frozen sound,
It stopped the snowflake in its flight,
And encased the darkness of the night;
As midnight perched so oddly bold.

A lapse now noticed in the sinful sound;
A falter, just enough for snow,
Not noticed by the devilish crow;
But faintly falling, nonetheless.

Now midnight saw the dusty white,
And blackness raised its wicked chest,
The crow crowed, crowed at its best;
Yet the snow just came the harder.

Too late, white struck hard like lightening
Reflecting in midnight's ghastly eyes,
The gentle blizzard ignoring its cries;
Clinging to the nightly black like glue.

Scarcely a crow now, more like dawn,
Shadowed now by a calm of blur;
Destroying the sin of midnight were
These white unsullied slivers of heaven.

Of crow, of night there was none, now,
Resembled dawn, a more saintly dove,
Cleansed by the snowfall that fell from above. Given a chance, new
beginning, accepted.

Dove chirped and fluttered in pride, approval,
And greeted the colors that lit the skies,
Peace, the sweet smell of a silent sunrise;
Its feathers glimmered the whitest white.

Dawn, dove glided past my window,
Passed and landed on the rising sun,
The place where darkness could not run.
The quintessence of evil turned good.