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

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