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Literature Text
The chill in the air
makes me smile
as the bliss of snow
caresses my nose.
Playing in the blankets of ice;
building figments from the imagination.
The joy in hearts,
is careless and free.
Feel the joy
and wake up from the dream.
Let the snow inside
melt and warm the soul.
Float on the ice
and be free for the day.
Enjoy the days;
wait for the others to come.
makes me smile
as the bliss of snow
caresses my nose.
Playing in the blankets of ice;
building figments from the imagination.
The joy in hearts,
is careless and free.
Feel the joy
and wake up from the dream.
Let the snow inside
melt and warm the soul.
Float on the ice
and be free for the day.
Enjoy the days;
wait for the others to come.
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A piece I wrote about two winters ago. I like it.
Comments3
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I like the variance of the snow image. It's an excellent poem. Very full. There's a real sense of emption, of permanence and impermanence, and carpe diem. A lot in one little poem.
I think this parallels what we were talking about, about capturing those small moments where you feel something and translating that. A poem is like a photograph in this way: it preserves an emotional state in a moment, almost crystalizing it. I like it.
I think this parallels what we were talking about, about capturing those small moments where you feel something and translating that. A poem is like a photograph in this way: it preserves an emotional state in a moment, almost crystalizing it. I like it.