Today I’ll share a Poem…

Safe This Morning I Look

Sky thick as clouds

Yet out of nowhere (thin air?)

Drop coin-size rounds

Down, down, down, down, down, down, down

Alone or clutched pairs

This way or that way (which way?)

Not lost, not found.

 

Silent motion

Soft Vibration

Weaving white fabric

Cleansing light magic

Creator of form

Beautiful storm.

 

Through grids of glass

Protected in mortared clay

No air can pass

Hot screams from furnace cry, “Stay!”

Yet thoughts come fast

Adventure and mystery

Go out and play!

 

Stop change! No wait!

Fluffy coin turning to dust

Act now go straight

Lands of wonder below us

Beating eighths

Pounding rhythm silently

Dance I must.

 

Silent motion

Soft Vibration

Weaving white fabric

Cleansing light magic

Creator of form

Beautiful storm.

 

By vincegreen111058

©2017

 

I wrote these lines early Sunday morning January 8^th as the first New England snowstorm of note entered its second day.