After several weeks of spring yard work and cleaning out the gardens to reveal the tiny shoots of greenery just peeking through the damp earth, I woke up to several inches of snow this morning. I knew it was coming, had read the news the evening before, and when I finally went to bed shortly before midnight the snow was already starting to come down. I have to say, I not only don't mind, but I'm feeling quite peaceful about it. There's something very calming about a late snow, as though the momentum we had been riding requires a hiatus, a breather, a reminder to Be Here Now,* to be a part of the great I Am.
Everywhere, everywhere, snow sifting down,
a world becoming white, no more sounds,
no longer possible to find the heart of the day,
the sun is gone, the sky is nowhere, and of all
I wanted in life -- so be it -- whatever it is
that brought me here, chance, fortune, whatever
blessing each flake of snow is the hint of, I am
grateful, I bear witness, I hold out my arms,
palms up, I know it is impossible to hold
for long what we love of the world, but look
at me, is it foolish, shameful, arrogant to say this,
see how the snow drifts down, look how happy
~ Joseph Stroud
Joseph Stroud is an American poet born in 1943.