Snowy Spring escape to granda's cabin - a poem

GRANDPA'S CABIN

(A Weber Winter Day)

Some steps find frozen crust that bears the load.
Some sink to laboring in knee deep snow
and make us work for way along the road
to grandpa’s cabin – days of long ago.

He pondered well the tree-filled site he chose.
The river, bridge and grove his plan embraced.
With family camped in tents, the cabin rose.
He found here rest from city life fast paced.

We light the fireplace with failing flame.
The wood we brought too green, the woodpile wet.
Freezing, must we retreat the way we came?
With bark and twigs at last a fire is set.

O glorious, sylvan, sun-splashed afternoon!
E'en birds keep silence here, or else have flown.
High windowed seat surveys a world in tune.
The silent wood speaks peace but seldom known.

The river winks and ripples in its flow.
Nature awakens awe at God's display.
Waters, escaping bars of ice and snow,
on ceiling cast reflections through the day.

Is Grandpa here or can come here still,
to see his children’s children in our play?
To feel God's gifts bestowed through his good will,
and share the flashing sunlight's bright display?