Hallelujah Spring / Idleness by Diane Webster

Hallelujah Spring

Like a monastery 

snow-bulky pine trees 

sag in domes 

atop the mountain 

closer in prayer 

to catch the ear of God 

above clogged 

masses of grasses 

buried beneath. 

 

Tree boughs bow 

in winter reverence 

gowned in purity, 

anonymous in white, 

a forest of awe 

devoted to snow 

awaiting 

Hallelujah spring. 

 

 

Idleness

  

The woman’s silhouette 

stands on the darkened land 

as if on the horizon’s edge. 

 

Stagnant as a ship’s sail 

sagging without wind 

she allows the tsunami 

of night to consume her 

into its darkness. 

 

By morning she returns 

as a shadow stretching 

her skinny figure 

across grass rippling 

like waves washing its beach. 

 

The woman stands 

on the lightening land 

as if on a cloud’s 

silver lining.

Diane Webster lives in Colorado where she retired in 2022 from working 40 years at a local newspaper. She enjoys the challenge of transforming images into words. Her work has appeared in "El Portal," "North Dakota Quarterly," "New English Review" and other literary magazines.