I feel the snow falling.
I see it under street lights
beyond the window glass,
but here beside the fire
I can feel it.
The blanket spreads
muffling the city sounds
to where the snow
might shape us
into the silence
where all songs begin.
Reading of “Shaped by Snow” with music by Tinariwen
“In the beginning…” a simple creative word resounds in the silence known by true friends. Your words, Don, evoke the timeless friendship we share…oh that we might be as gentle as snow with one another as “the blanket spreads muffling the city sounds!”
So very beautiful, this Sunday morning with rain and snow for the next three or so days
It evokes such a moment of peace for me.
This blessing of crystals falling from above nesting us in ..inward…contemplative..
Feeling the snow is a real, tactile thing…..easy to do…
Don, the ending is loaded, very powerful. You would have aced a Frank O’Malley assignment that baffled us freshman year: we were to write about cold. Where were you?
I love this poem, Don. And your reading is powerful. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law have a friend they call “Snow Quiet”. For some reason, this poem reminded my of that.
In the warmth of your words, Don, I can hear and feel the Silence in slowly melting snowpack soaking earthen crusts destined to birth Spring newness. Here, I’ll worship.
So lovely, Don,
I feel you feeling the snow from your warm spot by the fireside!