Archive 12/26/09 - (1)

   

The Blizzard

                                                                  

 

 

It began not long before midnight, Wednesday,

And two and a half days later,

The snow has yet to show even the tiniest signs of slowing.

 

It's still flying around perpendicularly, vertically,

Transfiguring everything in sight, with its vibrancy,

To the consistent hue of Michelangelo's David ground to dust...

 

Everything in this microcosmic universe I alone own,

Here in the unstirring Village of Lake Nebagamon,

Where I've come to celebrate year's end, in my cabin fashion.

 

To this moment, its been a ubiquitous blur,

Becoming a second flesh the earth will wear for months,

A shapeless veil draping itself over the abiding whiteness,

 

Inviting me outside, to traipse in my rawhide-webbed snowshoes,

Meditate on the meaning of Christmas,

Yet lingering over the lake, woods, houses of resilient villagers,

 

Who, like me, believe that blizzards are necessary blessings

That beckon us to incorporate the sacred rites of winter,

Worship the holy, haloing beauty of blowing snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                               

 

12/26/09 - (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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