Wednesday, February 10, 2010

On Snow

Give light a shape; when merely it reflects
From anything, it carries not itself
But like a word it humbly genuflects
And it is lost in bush, or tree, or shelf:
Unto whatever’s seen it gives a pass
And dies unto the solid, colored form.
Take all the world and cover it in glass!
In sparkling hints that their weight misinform
So that the eye, when seeing what seems dust
Does gladly say that there is Something More.
It feels, but does not know, it, rather, trusts,
That “Shapeless blobs” have really shapes galore.
Why does a whitened world our minds awake?
Because this thing called snow is light with shape.

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Even though I don't comment very often, I do really enjoy your poetry.

God bless!

JKnight said...

I wanted to get opinions on whether love is more powerful when it is something that happens to you or when it is something you decide to do.

I guess i'll post some stuff about me in my profile, we have some things in common...

JKnight said...

Sorry, i only just saw your new comments. Yeah that was the question i meant, your answer was beautifully put. thanks. I'd like to see what other people think about it too, but i'm not sure how to get people talking. not good at this yet. maybe you just have to say the right thing or ask the right question?

Old Fashioned Liberal said...

I find it difficult to get lots of talking. You either have to have very dedicated viewers or a lot of viewers. And considering that I'm not really very well connected, that's hard to do.