Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Magpie 198

The Ice Cutters, 1911, Natalia Goncharova

A Magpie......

Winter has always fascinated and enthralled me with it's palate of white.
To say nothing of
  The myriad shapes of it's crystalline flakes.
Calm and cleansing,
 Soothingly refreshes both soul and body.
And I've moved tons of snow...
 From my byways;
Oddly enough, imbued am I at such times
 With a deep meditation, found, for me,
No where else.
Not Zen nor yoga nor even prayer
 Brings to me
The peace of shoveling snow;
Especially at night under
Street lights illumination,
 The swirling snow ignites my


Blogger Lee said...

And about time, too, Remiman! I keep an eye out...I'm a bit like the magpies that hang around my cabin...to see when you're going to reappear.

My magpies keep their eyes out waiting for the scraps of meat I throw out to them daily!

Take care. :)

5:21 PM  
Blogger Helen said...

I really enjoyed your poem. Like you, shoveling snow by the light of the moon, in the still of the night .. infuses me with a calm, peaceful feeling. Happy Holidays!

9:00 AM  
Blogger The Blog of Bee said...

A lovely read. Made me feel peaceful.

12:08 PM  
Blogger Tess Kincaid said...

Beautiful...you know how much I adore winter...always a pleasure to see you at Magpie, Rel...

12:29 PM  
Blogger Robyn Lee said...

Love the poem, Rel...I can see the peaceful snow covered night in the words.

1:33 PM  
Blogger Suz said...

oh I get this...living in Chicago and shoveling my share of snow
Yes, there is an almost holy silence as you lift and throw...hearing your breath, tasting your warm breath against a scarf....yes, you have done a great job in jogging my memory about such meditative activity...you are absolutely right.....nice

7:35 PM  
Blogger Strummed Words said...

You have captured the feeling of pureness of that white falling snow.

8:41 AM  
Blogger Berowne said...

Very nice writing...

8:42 AM  

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