Skip to main content

snowflakes, glitter and pasted smiles

snowflake covered icicles

How full of creative genius is the air in which these are generated!  I should hardly admire more if real stars fell and lodged on my coat – Henry David Thoreau

I sat down to write a piece of poetry about Christmas and snow falling.  Words like softly and gently wanted to be written, but they seemed cliché.  You see, a couple of weeks ago someone told me I was all “happy-clappy” about Christmas.  This person knows nothing of my life; the good stuff or the sad. 

We simply look at the pasted smile and go about our days, because that is what we are supposed to do.

Having allowed myself to get duly worked up, I understood that my outlook had nothing to do with outward circumstances; it’s rooted in my intrinsic values and beliefs.  It’s my distinct gift to open every day.

You see, the very first Christmas was not a glitter covered event with gentle snowflakes and hot toddys.  It was in a barn full of animals and ransacked with scandal.  There was dirt and gossip whispered behind backs; homelessness and poverty.  All of the lack and mess was spotlighted by a bright star and the most harmonic choir ever.  Emmanuel, welcome into my ordinary.

Mind cleared, perspective back, I can now write the poem –


Tiny, virtually unnoticeable flakes fell from winter grey skies
Micro dots of crystalline frost coming through the atmosphere
Covering everything with a coat of pure white

It’s quiet
A quiet so loud that I stop and listen
Do I hear anything?

Piles deepen as ice molecules continue their journey; a frolic to a solstice tune
It’s pretty; picture perfect, all is clean

Appearances, like the smile pasted face are not always as they seem
Under the snow lies potholed streets and brown grass
Muddy fields and broken stuff
Buildings and cars; all the remnants of living

For a moment, though, all is calm and all is bright
Pristine and textbook…for a moment


Happy New Year, friends!

Missy


If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, collaborator, family member or even random acquaintance


Comments

  1. Oh so true...beautifully written..Love Mom

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Mom. Are you missing the snow and cold this year?

      Delete
  2. Isn't it just like someone to want to rain on your parade? Just because you want to focus on the good in life instead of what hurts doesn't mean it's not there. We all paste smiles on since only a select few should be included in the reality of what our lives are really all about. I like the way your poem turned out but the soft and gentle would have been nice too. Hope your Christmas was merry and your New Year bright.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Marlene, I think you almost said it better than I did. We certainly do put on our smiles, in our polite society. Maybe, I'll write another poem that does include soft and gentle. Happy New Year!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...

In full abandon, straining on tiptoes

A scrap of paper tucked in my journal is full of scribbled notes and words, people’s names – really it would appear to be miscellany.  One phrase is “in full abandon.”  The expression had a reference, but now reading it almost daily, it takes on new significance and worth. a.ban.don:  to leave and never return (Merriam-Webster) The word “abandon” conjures negative thinking; abandoned lot, abandoned project, abandoned people. Places and things are left for trash or individuals that have been discarded and tossed aside.  This definition certainly leaves one feeling rather desolate and, well … abandoned. On the sunny side of the street, abandon is also yielding without restraint, to give up control.  It’s bursting with exuberance. Picture being in full abandon:  there’s a child running down a hillside, arms flailing and legs barely able to keep them upright.  He is on the verge of tumbling head over heels, but somehow if that happen...

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear ...