POEM

this is all beginning: the stillness, the lace of snow...

we are so aware of quiet now, though it was surely

quiet here before, but we didn’t hear that - we did

hear spring coming out of the ground, we heard 

summer buzz on the waters. don’t you recall? we

heard each golden leaf fall, though softly, and now, 

snow is the holy ground that takes care of everything.

conifers are startling green. contrasts are only this:

needle and white, here and there, glistening bark.

water is still, in new role of dormancy in purpose. 

what will grow from any life here in the whitening now?

all will be under blanket of snow, over these alpine

reaches into a very blue cut crystal sky. we will see, 

if we can even reach this place: more of what silence

really is: the presence of time before and time after: 

all caught up, in splendid webs of snow and snow....