when i woke in winter’s morning, grey and beautiful
snow had been falling during the midst of night
the hidden light of the moon falls into its slumber
and a stillness of the morning seemed to take hold of my thoughts
– in a grey morning dawn.
a leaping sun hides and hibernates
and yields to a gentle falling snow.
all the silence that is to be heard in the woods
i seek for it here as i sit at my desk in this cabin –
warm and comforting.
glancing out the window before me –
frosted and cold.
the desk lamplight shines upon the parchment,
the cobblestone fireplace warms the room,
and i gaze out some more.
hypnotized by the falling flakes dancing downwards, searching –
finding the words in a silent wonder
i snap back out of my hypnotic state
as the chimes of the clock strike nine
soon fading back into its rhythmic tic toc.
– in a grey morning dawn.
a leaping sun hides and hibernates
and yields to a gentle falling snow.
all the silence that is to be heard in the woods
gave way to the crunching sound of footprints in snow –
stretching my legs i wander towards the wood pile and grab another armful.
from the corner of my sight, i found the cardinal perching in the twiggy branches
the morning snow slowly cloaking, coating the bare trees,
and all the while the creek below sweeps it cold waters downstream.
the chimney smoke softly drifts upward, and bellows outward the sent of a welcoming warmth awaiting
i rush back into the cabins comfort.
the tea kettle slowly starts its soft whistle as i brush off the gathering flakes of snow
now melting on my jacket and in my hair
– when i woke in the winter’s morning, grey and beautiful
snow had been falling during the call of night
the hidden light of the moon falls into its own slumber
and a stillness of the morning seemed to take hold of my thoughts
c. 2014 bgw
