“A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Monday, January 14, 2013

Waiting


Crackling and barren,
burdened slender boughs struggle.
Their shadows mimic.

Strength in stark beauty,
monotonic in shading,
essentials lay stripped.

Beneath the deadness,
renewal and hope await
their life cycle turn.

9 comments:

Gail said...

HI JUDY - so happy to se you and "read" you :-) Beautiful poem of Winter's intent and promise
Love to you
Gail
peace.....

Muffie said...

And you see this from Florida? JK. I love the beauty of snow and ice when seen from an inside window. I need to remind myself about nature's analogy -- life lies beneath the barren wasteland.
Peace,
Muff

Karen said...

Superb!

Mary Mennenga said...

So true we had a warm up here, just enough to turn the grass green, now it's locked unchanged under ice. Mary

Robert Parker said...

Beautifully said!

Everything happens in its own time; and winter's emptiness makes spring and summer's beauty possible.

And even the barrenness of winter has its own special beauty, as you so beautifully set forth today. Again... well done. Beautifully said!

Kim@stuffcould.... said...

Strength in stark beauty....I need to remember that, it is true

Diane J Standiford said...

Really excellent.

Anne said...

One of the reasons that I like snow.... that even being cold etc. it brightens up the night a great deal allowing you see much more than usual :o)

Judy said...

Gail, I’m glad to be back.

Muff, it was all those years I spent in Chicago that taught me about snow. Hard to forget.

Karen, thanks.

Mary, it will grow again. Thank goodness.

Robert, the trick is finding the beauty even in the most unpromising places.

Kim, there is a robustness to starkness. I think that’s what inspired those words.

Diane, thanks much.

Anne, I hadn’t even thought about the light reflecting quality of white snow! Thanks!