Saturday afternoon the snow started slowly. Being warm the flakes became thick. I started my walk catching some of it, missing most of it. I am not aware enough to be aware of everything. I must leave some for the saint’s creative contemplation or the monk’s mindful meditation.
The snow came down thicker and more beautifully as I walked back through sparkling white. I did not expect so late in my grey year to have so many blessings as if my impatience and despair had been forgiven.
GREY SKY WITH WHITE OWL
WAITING IN THE SNOW-FILLED TREE
LOOK–HE FLIES AWAY
If I murmur, talk or sing
Guard the magic with this ring.
Hold the thought and come what may
Let the sacred children play.
Understand but don’t read through.
Spirit will enlighten you.
Then forgive and what we’ve done
May be forgiven. Life’s begun.
Text: Linked to dVerse Quadrille hosted by De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) with the word “murmur”. Because of the lines about forgiveness I am linking this to Debbie Roth’s Forgiving Fridays. I don’t know what this poem means. It just murmured its way here.
Photos: “Icicles in the Sun”, above, and “More Icicles”, below, taken at noon on this relatively warm winter’s day.
Winter locks the door on Spring
Frigid in the sack.
There’s snow and trees without their leaves.
Clean white suggests a lack
Unless it’s looking back.
Text: I am trying a variation of Japanese tanka that William N. Porter used to translate the The Hyakunin-isshu in 1909. He used five iambic lines of 8-6-8-6-6 syllables with an end-rhyme on the shorter lines. There should be a pivot of the meaning at the third line separating and then reconnecting the top and bottom two lines.
Photos: “Snow Capped”, above, “Love of Winter”, below, linked to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge with the theme “the look of love”.