On this frigid morning,
I don’t even have to try,
To find the face of Buddha
Scrawled across the ice blue sky.
Lidded eyes in quiet contentment,
A ghostly Mona Lisa smile,
Lingers there in frozen heaven,
Visible, for many a mile.
An offered peaceful benediction
To morning travelers on the fly,
Writ on the vault, without intent,
By other travelers flying by.