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Posts Tagged ‘snow’

 

 

For an hour and a half, my son and I

create emptiness. All those places

where there was snow

on the drive and the walk,

we shovel them until there’s a long,

sinewy swath of absence.

It is deeply satisfying,

this moving of matter

from one place to another,

creating a path, a way.

When we are done, we lean

on our shovels and revel

in what is missing. We high five

and smile and feel as if we’ve really

accomplished something together.

How oddly full I feel

after this effort of emptying.

How many paths in me

are waiting to be exposed?

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Across the country, blizzards—blizzards

so big that folks speak of bombogenesis

while standing in line in the coffee shop.

 

And the snow begins to fall, snow

blocks out the sun, snow fills the roads,

the drives, the sills until people begin to forget

 

who they are when there isn’t a storm.

Imagine the storm goes on.

Imagine that it isn’t snow falling,

 

but forgiveness. Imagine all those people

rising morning after morning to find

themselves buried in compassion.

 

Piles of it. Heaps of it. Giant white drifts of it.

It must be dealt with before anything else

can happen. Before people can even

 

walk out the door, they must lift it

and move it and feel its surprising weight.

Who knew there was so much of it? Who knew

 

just how completely it could shut things down

if not engaged with properly? It takes some time,

perhaps, before the people see

 

how beautiful it is, how every single thing

it touches is softened, turned to sparkle,

turned to shine. A disruption, to be sure,

 

but sometimes it takes a blizzard

to find the calm. Sometimes

we must be stopped

 

before we learn how to go on.

And the colder it gets, the more

we must work to be warm.

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One Storm

 

 

 

so quietly the snow

makes every broken thing

whole

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After the first half mile

my shoes are soaked through

from post holing through knee deep snow.

There’s still a long way to go,

and the hike is for pleasure, after all,

so I decide it’s not so bad,

the squish of my socks,

the chill seeping in.

It’s just another way to remember

I’m alive, and though it’s slippery

and slushy, the trail,

and though I’m less nimble

than I’d wish to be,

look at that blue, blue sky,

and oh, my long shadow,

see how eagerly it leans to the east.

 

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One Unselving

 

 

 

skiing through the valley

the snow and I

trade places

 

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between the drips
of melting snow the waiting
for the next drip

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how beautiful
the snow
the instant
I stop wishing
for a clear day

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