A glimmer out of nothing
shadows set in shadows come alive
to watch and wait and see if more will come
High cliffs above, snow falling silent
and death come to a world with no life
Come to worship, or to taste the bitter snowfall
the cold of a home left far behind
felt in bones a thousand times broken
reaching out in warning to the stars
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Been drawing from an empty well the past couple weeks in terms of the story idea I’m working on. I need to jostle some ideas loose in my head and get back to it. Poetry helps in the meantime. Cheers.
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Photo by Lou Batier on Unsplash
The Light is On 
8 responses to “Snowfall”
It must be that time where the muses hide and artists suffer. I hope they return to you soon and your creative juices start flowing again. Rest in the mean time, or sharpen the saw as they say.
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Indeed! Sorry it took so long for me to respond–I’ve been working to get a handle on my schooling. Cheers Dawn (:
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Hopefully a nice rain will fill the well once more (though I don’t know what the rain would be in this metaphor 🙂) Always good to see your writing though, poetry and prose alike!
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Whatever the metaphor, I hope so too (: Thanks so much!
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I’m always making myself write other forms out of both desire and necessity but what I really like to write is poetry. The poem is good, BTW.
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Good to stretch the mind in that way! And thanks so much Syd (:
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“the cold of a home left far behind
felt in bones a thousand times broken”
Haunting and lovely. 🙂
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Thank you! Glad you liked it (: cheers
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