Blowing snow at the picnic table outside our cabin
The landscape is painted liberally
Broad white strokes of a snowy brush
White washed over the secrets underneath
Hidden
All will linger undisclosed for the duration of the season
A break in the storm now will not reveal the frozen ground below
Soil and seed and even dried blossom and fallen leaves will remain
Concealed until spring’s inevitable thaw
We are in a storm
Raging power of the skies unleashed
I long for the clouds and cloak that shelter us like soothing hands
Stroking
Enwrapping me in the fury of the skies
Under heavy sheets of rain or snow
Like flowing skirts as the mountain dances upon a stage
Earth is masked by flowing veils
In the comfort of the soft and closing arms of clouds
We wish to be here forever
Wish it will last forever
This fragile beauty
A precarious serenity
A delicate simplicity
Nothing else matters
Not tomorrow
Nor the long cold moons
Nor the fated spring that will turn it all to river and mud
Now it is snow, all snow, always snow for months on end
Heavy and silent
No more playful tapping on the roof and singing and dancing in puddles
But a weighty swathe
Enveloping our world, our lives in white
We are covered.