Here's to the Snowstorms: Faith, Art, and Finding Home #3
Current Status: Snow Day. Friday's snowstorm left everything in a beautiful cover of white, and the weekend was all blue skies and bright sun and chunks of heavy, wet snow falling from the trees. But another storm blew in overnight, and will continue to hang around all day, it seems. So it goes, right?
So for this month's letter,something a little different. As an exercise in enjoying (or at least appreciating) winter, I've been working on a poem about the first good snow of the year. I'm not used to writing long poems. I'm sure this still needs tinkering, but I thought it'd be fun to share with you guys first. :) May you find a little magic in the world this week.
***
Here’s to anticipation
because meteorologists are not clairvoyant.
We know that. Everyone knows that.
but we are people of plans and details
and we crave prediction, accuracy
right down
to next Thursday’s temperature at 2pm.
So there’s the woman on TV
with the announcer voice,
the man with the Doppler radar
throwing out guesses and models.
The consensus is nobody knows
so go ahead, get your bread and milk.
Here’s to the week before
when every bright day is a gift
of cloudless blue and bare trees
that seem etched into
the sheer face of sky.
So deceptive when you’re indoors,
because how can the cold
be so beautiful? You run errands
without a coat, and remember
yes, there are some days
even the sun can't thaw.
Here’s to last minute grocery lists
because the forecast is looking solid
(ish), and you don’t dare run out
of your staples: bread, milk, cans of soup
or -- let’s be honest -- tortilla chips and TP.
And here’s to coffee shop afternoons
and a night on the town before
the blizzard comes. Call it
Cabin Fever Prevention. ‘Cause tomorrow,
honey, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.
The sun goes down. There’s a bite
to the air, a sign of things to come.
Here’s to those first flurries
drifting silent from gathering clouds.
You can relax now, finally! It’s here.
The wind kicks flakes into drifts,
and the other side of the window
looks like television static --
gray on white on gray.
The rattling snow plows
can’t keep up,
but they’ll keep vigil
all night if they have to.
Here’s to rest.
Here’s to blankets and coffee,
good books and hot stew,
guilt-free loafing, because your work
is done. There’s nothing left to do
but wait it out.
Here’s to morning,
and peeking out the window to see
a landscape erased. Cement, cars
cigarette butts in the gutter,
the cast-off detritus of the city
is wiped clean and white, blazing
with the glare of the sun.
Even scrawny, shivering trees
get their shot at glory
robed in crystallized
icy splendor now.
And finally, but not least of all,
here’s to the clean-up.
Because oh, we all hate shoveling,
but look around at your neighbors
stumbling out into the daylight,
out from their hibernation,
stretching and squinting in the sun.
They pick up shovels and get to work.
And the labels between us --
friend, acquaintance, stranger --
even those are wiped clean
if only for one morning.
SOME THINGS WORTH SHARING
I realized I haven't written a lot on my own blog in the past month, though I have been doing some writing here and there! Usually slow writing times mean lots of good reading though... here are a couple of good things I've found:
Lately, in an effort to start the day well, I've been working through Emily P. Freeman's Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World, one chapter and a morning cup of coffee at a time. This is a lovely little book, a "hey, me too" kind of book. I realized about halfway through that this would be a great group read someday. I encourage you to spend a little time at her blog, and if the writing resonates with you, add this book to your reading list.
Sometimes Jennifer Trafton will share an essay online, and when she does it's always something my heart needs to hear. Love, love, love her. Her latest on The Rabbit Room, In the Light of Home: "When you stand in the exact spot where story and sanctuary meet, you will recognize the light."
THE MOLEHILL COMETH!
It's true! The Molehill Vol. 4, featuring stories, art, essays, poetry, and other miscellany from the amazing Rabbit Room team is available for pre-order now! And yes, I have a few poems in it. :) Can't wait to see a copy in person... every book in this series is beautiful and filled with treasure to explore, and I commend them all to you.
Hey, you made it to the end!
Thank you, thank you for reading and caring. If you like this and know someone else that might like it too, feel free to forward this letter to a friend. May the rest of your winter be warm and lovely... see you in the spring!
~ Jen
www.jenroseyokel.com