The Snow 24/1/07

I gazed out my window

For five minutes this morning.

The silent scene stared back at me,

Smiling as I stood statue-like,

Frozen.

---

As I stepped onto this white carpet

Where before only fairies went,

My eyes tried to take in this parallel-world,

Wondering how it had quietly transformed

Since yesterday evening.

---

There is no wind. It has become speechless.

Instead it is calm and makes us feel young again-

Crushing the cold beneath our feet,

Hearing only the gentle murmur as the

Snow falls.

---

Children dance, spinning as the Snow,

Laden with new-born joy for this

'Whiteness' that covers their realms in glory.

They trample the Snow and trip-

Perhaps.

---

They land, arms spread wide like

The wings of a plane, ready to cry.

Anxiously their mothers mirror the

Steeping houses, still, listening, watching.

The child laughs

---

A flowing river or maybe gurgles

Or chuckles or grins. Wordlessly

The Snow questions the mothers' fear-

'I always catch them.' The mothers sigh,

Their fiery breath melting the air.

---

As the Snow continues to lie,

Satisfied with her well-admired beauty,

The people watch her blissful sleep

With awe-filled eyes and hands that are

Frozen.