At sunrise on winter days,
our trail is through newly fallen snow, and
every footfall is a waxing moon.
Our muffled steps rise and fall
through snow-drowned spruces, hearts
beating as one, in tune, in time.
beating as one, in tune, in time.
Goldenrod and milkweed,
great spruces weighted under snow—
all nod in early greeting.
Ghost choirs of summer grosbeaks
sing above our heads, and icicles form
along roof lines as we pass.
Winter rounds the village out,
smooths the contours of house and street,
shaping deserts out of snow.
In morning softness, we know ourselves
at last—perfect, still and so complete
nothing abandoned or left behind
kerrdelune (me)
6 comments:
"Ghost choirs of summer grosbeaks," gave me goosebumps.
The last line leaves me feeling so centered, safe and secure with my life.
Memorable words, memorable photograph!
Thinking of both of you - all day already - and will do so through the night!
WONDERFUL photo, such special words too....
Knowing that there is someone out there who think of you, which offers a small corner in his heart, warm, sheltered from everything, it's like a very soft blanket that surrounds you and protects you from the cold.
(Agnes Ledig)
Beautiful!
Beautiful indeed! - I esp like the last stanza: "In morning softness, we know ourselves at last -- perfect, still and so complete,nothing abandoned or left behind." And your photo as always sings the truth of this...
:)C
Smiling because when I read the very first couple of lines, I knew this beauty was one of yours.
"In morning softness, we know ourselves
at last—perfect, still and so complete
nothing abandoned or left behind"
When I read those words, my heart just sighed a great big ol' "yes."
<3
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