prisms of snowy white

the plains white with frost
invite my feet to crunching promenades
nourish a childlike desire to build snowmen
or to tumble, laughing, down mountain slopes...
soon my breath will smoke with the outdoor chill
like those distant farmhouse chimneys —
I follow their trails briefly from the train's window —
where I imagine oak logs and dry autumn leaves
burn with crackling warmth, a promise for my arrival
when I will finally rest elbows on tabletop
with a steaming mug of mulled wine

farther, in a valley veiled in morning mist
only the church steeple appears,
majestically like a crown,
it points towards the heavens
timeless above the cloudy morning
hidden in recalcitrant daylight,
while naked trees are draped in daggers of ice
(feeble protection against the season's inclemency)
with a prayer, they insure that springtime will bring
tender buds of hope

but many frozen moons will pass
before the march equinox
and the prisms reflecting in the snowy white
begin, once again, to illuminate
the brighter spectrum of the colors of life

today the vast snow white fields blend
into the mute uniformity of the sky
as sure as summertime blue
confuses joyous eyes searching the limit between
the salty ocean depths and unclouded tomorrows




prisms of snowy white
24 december, 2006
The Lyons Collection
[2006.24.12...a]
Revised 19.12.2007