Said the Snow to the Landscape

Who knew shoveling could inspire such fun? A short poem about the snow meeting the ground for the first time.

“Bleak,”

said the snow

to the landscape as it fell

of their outlook. “One can tell,

though for now, seems all is well.”

“Still,”

said the ground

in reply, “it’s so serene

just enjoy the present scene

we have made by simply being.”

“Well,”

in retort

the snow was sure “we cannot last

the sun will come, the season pass

until we melt to feed the grass.”

“But,”

admonishing

the gentle land to it’s new friend,

“it’s just a phase, and not an end

as nature calls on you to blend.”

“Now,

though solid form

you’ll be scattered by the wind,

packed by nature’s denizens,

and thrown as man carves out your drifts.”

“Yes!

you must endure,

but give it time and you will see

the sky will catch you up to be

once more falling back to me.”

“Oh!”

said the flakes,

one great voice in unison,

“We remember! It had been

this very place where thoughts begin.”

“So,

we had worried

we’d never see another star,

yet you knew, though very far,

we’d return, and here we are!”

This

they went through

every winter, every year,

that the land would lend an ear

and help to soothe the snowflakes’ fear.