Waiting
for the Snow
We
all…
Black
bears, squirrels,
The
dense gray ghosting forest
With
russet heart
Of
fallen leaves,
Even
the industrious Nuthatch,
Ever
upside down,
Master
of tree trunks,
Pause
in this still,
Even
slightly warm
Moment,
air,
Pause:
Feeling,
seeking
The
softest fall of all…
Waiting
for the snow.
Only
the streams and brooks
Continue,
Are
irrepressible.
Our
mountains are full of water
And
it must spring forth.
So
the shimmering sound
Of
water over rocks,
Is
background
To
winter stillness.
This
is
Our
peace.
Ó 2013 ted
heimerdinger
No comments:
Post a Comment