The snows hiatus

It happens one or two or three times a year,
The snows hiatus.

One, always right before Christmas, the others in the new year
Rain is sure to follow each passing hiatus of the winter weather
Rain that mixes the paints before washing the canvas clean.

Brown mixed with green and spotty patches of white litter the picture.
Its to no gain that my viewfinder is stained with the eye boogers of an older man intent on seeing what is to be seen.

This snows hiatus is a turtles head, returning to safety.

This snows hiatus is an image of my hearts condition.
Returning to safety. Foregoing the good for the familiar.
Fearing the new from the old.
Assuming the unkown to be the worst, and the known to be the best.
The snow will return, as it does in NY. So will my peace. My dirt, my litter, my trash, my waste will be covered, again. To be white as snow.
The snows fallin again. Ha. Look at the big white crystals of purity and wholeness. Landing on your hair and in your eyes.

Feel the cool breeze pulling these fluffy flakes through the heavy, dark, air. Let your lungs shiver with the feel of repair.

So overwhelming is this beauty, I fall in the shock of perspective.
Away I go, to wherever one million snowflakes take me.


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