This land remembers.
Once it was covered in the dust of toil,
in the scars of empire and the weight of sorrow.
But the snow came.

Not just to cool the earth,
but to wash her.

Whiter than snow is not just purity.
It is transformation.
It is the end of guilt’s stain,
the beginning of a new creation.

And here, in Guyra,
the snowfall is not merely weather.
It is a psalm.
A prayer answered.
A cleansing of God’s Land.