THOUGHTS
Through Stark White Snow
3 poems for winter’s preferred precipitation
Through Stark White Snow
If I can’t walk along a sandy beach, let me trudge through stark white snow. What a satisfying sensation. What a scrumptious crunching sound.
If I can’t stand in the sun and bask in its strong heat, let me feel the push of a brisk wind. Let it inspire and invigorate me.
If I cannot feel the ocean gently lapping at my toes, let me catch a flake on my tongue. Let another land on my nose.
If I can’t sit in silence and let the quiet comfort me, let the noise I hear be laughter. And let there be joy in my company.
If I can’t lie under a cerulean sky or run through verdant grass, let me watch in warmth from my window as winter’s confetti falls en masse.
If I can’t stare at the shimmering ocean, let my world be cloaked in white. Let snow glaze everything like frosting — streets, trees, cars, buildings — opalescent in moonlight.
Let me find the gift in each season and learn contentment every month. Let me accept each day’s weather — whether sunny, rainy, cold, humid, or hot.
Let me invest in each moment and graciously accept what it endows. Let me not hasten time. Let me dwell in the now.
Trees Receive Snow
I love the way trees receive snow,
Holding it so generously in their boughs.
Wearing it like confection or cotton or a slick lacquer.
Letting playful dollops drop when it gets warmer.
Hello Snow
Hello snow.
Hello confetti cut by clouds.
Come set the sky aflutter with flurries.
Come pile up on cars and trees and houses.
*
Alight on eagerly outstretched, young tongues.
Blank slate the earth.
Whitewash the ground.
*
Sometimes you’re as light as a whisper.
You blow away with a soft wind or disappear — melting — upon impact.
Existing only in air.
Other times you’re dense and heavy — weighty and thick.
You cover everything — a soft and shimmering blanket.
*
We’ll make snowmen and snow angels out of you.
We’ll leave footprints and hear you crunch beneath our boots.
*
Welcome snow.
Welcome winter’s soft precipitation.
*
You stir hearts with an invitation to play.
Saying:
“Come sled down the hills I’ve coated.”
“Come pack me tight and test your aim throwing.”
*
Some are so quick to complain.
They say you turn to slush.
That shoveling is a pain.
*
But first you decorate the sky and beautifully enshroud the earth.
Even the garbage is transformed into innocuous white lumps.
*
Hello snow.
Hello cold art falling from the sky.
Sculptures forged at great atmospheric heights.
Each snowflake a unique, glittering design.
*
You change the landscape without ever making a sound.
In truth, you look like magic floating to the ground.
More poetry by Aabye-Gayle F.:
If you are keen to write with us on RESONATES, read the submission guidelines here.
