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Is what I am seeing really happening?
Is what I am feeling really true?
What was there a minute ago has disappeared in the wind.
What I felt touching my face has melted away
and dissolved from view.
The sun has come out,
the snow that fell like a blizzard not long ago
hasn’t even left a snowflake on the ground
to remember it by.
People keep going,
the wheels keep turning,
the tea and the coffee is kept pouring,
the songs keep playing;
people love making a forthright choice
without any lingering or doubt;
friends keep saying hello,
companions always have to say goodbye.
There is no such thing as a bottomless cup.
There is no such thing as a winter without end.
Things don’t ever stop fascinating you about life
and about how the world works,
even when we realize and we know that we are a grown-up-
a sudden surprise event or incident that you never saw coming
doesn’t ever stop making your heart beat fast,
like meeting a new friend.
Interpretation can be an illusion.
What we think we see may not actually be there.
Not every answer to a question is a solution.
Sometimes life can be and can seem
like a non-stop game of truth or dare.
Things are important to us.
People are what keep us going.
We can lose our things,
we can lose touch with people,
we can lose focus,
we can forget where it was we were originally going,
because we got so lost in what we were doing.
Sometimes we can become hypnotized,
when we look into someone’s eyes we can become mesmerized.
When we look at our lives it can seem like a collage.
When we look at what is happening in the world
and all around us,
sometimes everything can feel like we are looking at a mirage.
Snowflakes swirl, fly, and dance, in the air,
as they slowly descend to the already white-covered floor-
billions of intricate and perfect frozen tears
dusting and blanketing the world before me.
It is like standing in the middle of a snowglobe.
No one can see anything in front of them,
everyone just jeeps going as best, as fast,
and as caustiously, as they can-
not letting the weather keep them in one place,
not even this unrelenting snowfall.
Seeing familiar landmarks veiled below frozen fields
that makes everything look indistinguishable from everything else,
a new world reveals itself, a new light shines, a new beauty arises,
the sky becomes the Earth, the Earth becomes the sky;
the sun is obscurred from view, all is bright,
and suddenly every-day things that you may sometimes miss
start to catch your eye.
A red british postbox has never looked more amazing
and glowing than against a white back-drop;
roads and motorways have never seemed more ghostly,
nor more other-worldly, than when you drive down them
in the middle of a blizzard,
when you are relying on the lights of the vehicles
in front of you to save you from coming to a sudden,
immediate, and perhaps costly stop.
Walking on what you cannot see,
walking on something that you have to constantly reteach yourself
how to walk on with every step,
makes you think more about your surroundings,
forces you to not take anything for granted,
and to expect the unexpected-
it doesn’t take much to take a false step in the snow below
and seconds later to find yourself in a skid.
In this weather you need to wrap-up warm, keep on the move,
stay dry, make the most of every shelter and cover that you come across,
don’t rush to wherever you are going, give yourself time, stay inside-
the snow can seem like a disruption if you have got somewhere to go;
but you cannot not appreciate its beauty, its magic,
its gift of contemplation-
nothing else opens your eyes to the world more wide.
Looking at the world, staring at the white cloud-covered sky,
at the snow-carpeted ground, and at the bare branches of the trees,
while wearing the biggest and the warmest coat that I could find
to protect me from the cold and the ice-
I look at where I am standing,
I look at the landscape that nature is remaking,
and I smile to myself at the thought that, as things stand right now,
this must be the most perfect winter wonderland that I have ever seen,
and it would be the most sublime snowman’s paradise.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 