One must have a mind of winterTo regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Wallace Stevens, from Harmonium
4 comments:
Wow...you have got some real snow there. Be careful of falling dynamics!
"...the sounds of the land...", I like that and, "...misery in the sound of the wind". Good poem.
The trees are chocked full of snow and I can almost feel the frigid air as I look at your beautiful photograph.
Thank you for sharing. Blessings.
"For the listener, who listens in the snow...." I listen every morning, mug of something hot in hand, my beagle running laps with her nose to the frozen ground is the only thing that breaks the silence. It's a happy sound.....
Delightful! Makes this Heart sing,
listening to the sounds of winter here:) Christine
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