Snowflake Dance
February 24, 2014 § 1 Comment
a single snowflake drifting
who is it to stand
apart from millions
just another white blur
dancing the snowflake waltz
a tiny creation carried
by the wind
but maybe this one
icy crystal will fall
into the outstretched hand
of a child looking up in wonder
at the spiraling snowy dance
hoping to catch
some magic for himself
who is it to stand
apart from millions
but who is it not to
Winter Leaf
February 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
drifting
downward from a home
above, somewhere far
overhead,
rushing
to meet the glass
twirling
and spinning, the dance
of a lost soul, a spirit
freed, separated
from what it knew
as home, finally
touching
the surface
gently, then aburptly
drawing
an inky circle, and another
ripples scattering
in perfect patterns,
every direction of silky glass
waving
gently outward
from a small piece of nature
seperated from its home
above
standing on my backporch at eleven pm after a snow storm
January 31, 2014 § Leave a comment
silence and a soft cold
the yellow landscape
tricks eyes into thinking
it’s dusk, highlighting objects
that go unnoticed most nights
at eleven pm
and a whispering echo
moving from north to south
gently lifts moisture from the ground
glittering
and moving quickly
like a school of frozen
fish in a pond
of yellowy light
it sends ice on a journey
of purposeful patterns
of bending and swirling
and pieces too small to see
touch your face
their cold surface pricking you
for only a second
before melting away
to another place.
Echoless
January 7, 2014 § Leave a comment
The crystalized landscape
softens every echo,
deafens every reverberating crack
of a branch giving up.
Only your footsteps
are there,
making dull crunches
against the earth
that maybe the bears underfoot
would hear in the confusion of their dreams.
Perhaps, also, the distant call of a bird
searching for love in the frozen forest
would break the silence pressing
against your head,
like diving deep underwater,
the pressure pounding gently
against your ear drums.
Only it’s different here.
You can breathe
magnificently.
Better than you ever could
and you’re frightened,
not because you can’t escape,
run as far as you can away
from the deafening sound of
nothing,
but because the silence is so present
that you never want to leave.
rosepoems 