The Quiet Village

little village in the snow* “Catterline in Winter” by Joan Eardley

Up and away for life! be fleet!-
The frost-king ties my fumbling feet,
Sings in my ears, my hands are stones,
Curdles the blood to the marble bones,
Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense,
And hems in life with narrowing fence.
Well, in this broad bed lie and sleep,-
The punctual stars will vigil keep,-
Embalmed by purifying cold;
The winds shall sing their dead-march old,
The snow is no ignoble shroud,
The moon thy mourner, and the cloud.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Advertisements

Inside It’s Snowing

Image

Sometimes the solace falling gently

A lace heart delicate and fragile

Sometimes a delightful crunch under toe

And yet to be trampled under way

But those are the weather conditions

 

Sometimes the howling wind in the head

A whirl of snow that blinds in confusion

Sometimes coldness of the soul

A paralysing grip leaving emotions helpless

But those are the weather conditions

 

Sometimes the ice begins to melt

A thawing into vulnerability

Sometimes piles shovelled aside

A necessity to see the path

Those are the weather conditions

 

Inside it is snowing

For god-sakes the purity!

The renewal of spiritual cleansing,

Shadows releasing new light

There is nothing one can do

……About those weather conditions

 

Copyright © 2006 Salem Islas-Madlo

photo by Roy Green

Looking Out The Barn Window