Friday, January 04, 2008

Snow

Under silent sky you daftly wait for the dice to be thrown
While the chances count like the flakes from the sky
Weightless, the size of sugar cubes, they blur your vision
And delight your mind

I have explained time and time again
Every scenario to my heart, mainly the bad
And I truly believe that it has somewhat understood
Like a mother to her child, it's hit or miss

The sound here is so delicate it is like clarity amidst a fog
As if you can hear each individual icy cotton pit-pat onto the blanketed earth

I have loosened my hold
And now I worry if that was foolish
If my assumption of passiveness was too early made
So I repeat in circles how it is it must behave

I think, like the snow, my expectations or feelings or whatever I have drop in massive beautiful heaps. They are caught by the previously drifted layer and settle wordlessly into their proper place. There is nothing harsh here, but a quiet movement to the bed where all, for now, belong. Hanging by a moment here with You, standing here until You make them move.

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