In the lane, in the snow, in my lovely new brown wool cape. Thank you Eve.
Today marks the turning of the year, the returning of the light. It is the Winter Solstice. (The winter solstice) – astronomically marks the beginning of shortening nights and lengthening days, interpretation varies from culture to culture, but most hold a recognition of rebirth.
In recognition, ones’ heart smiles.
Can the smile be enough for you?
If it is not,
No explanation will ever be enough.
If it is enough,
The smile smiles back.
That’s it. First post written after a long absence. Glad to be back at it. You can work out for yourself what I mean by ‘the smile’ however you should know it is not about….(can I say this, can I not? Yes I can say this…) It’s not about chocolate!
8 thoughts on “Returning”
Is that a Snowman sitting on the bench behind you?
Smiles and bows from Newcastle.
Great picture with that wonderful cape! Your poem hits the spot.
With bows, Jim R.
I took a look when I passed by the bench,
No Snowman did I see…
Da da de dah, de dah dee dah…
There might have been something there in terms of a poem(ish) but it just didn’t arrive. So thanks Miles for the smiles. It is great to be out ‘playing’ in the snow. By that I mean, _serious work_shovelling snow.
Well I’m glad of that Jim, hitting the spot like that. The best of writing is when one gets into a playful mood. And I guess that was how it was last night.
Glad you like the cape. Not exactly the weather for it but for spring and autumn it will be good. Now I can use it in my room when the heating is off.
Wonderful picture, cape and poem! It’s 30 deg and 70% humidity here, but your pictures freshen me up no end!
Best wishes to everyone.
I know how it is in your part of the world (East Asia) at this time of year. I still remember the feeling of the constant stream of sweat running down my spine – and getting to like it to be honest.
Anyway Walter I am glad you like the picture, cape and poem. Although I would not claim what I write in short lines as actual poems I do enjoy the freedom of the poem like form. Thinking about it now I see how the form cuts to the essential and perhaps in doing that the viewer is obliged to do th same. Hum. In thoughtful mode this am.
Take care out there.
Welcome back, funny game: always arriving.
Time for a poem why not?