Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, December 06, 2009

One Snowy December Morn

It's a really cold morning and I'm snuggled in fleece,
I gazed out the window at the cold snowy scene.
The bare trees are waving hello and the hills
sparkling with a blanket of December snow.

Icicles form on the cliff like rock, they would tell
a story if they could talk. They'd tell you how much
I love you as they glisten in the sunshine, the ice
crystal sparkles like your love does in my mind.

Winter has suddenly arrived and with its storms
it brings a sign. The magic of its powers are surely
defined, like the flurry of snowflakes and the
winds cry the touch upon the spirit moves me
from inside.

When I wake up the very first thing I do,
is give my thanks for the love of you.

When I smile its of no surprise that it's
you that's always on my mind.

When I sing it's from the heart, the
words of love that celebrate the spark.

When I dream the heavens are my guide
and on the clouds we dance so fine.

When I count my blessings at the top of
the list you'll find the dreams that make
you mine.

The first snowfall finally made its way,
the crystal white on the evergreens lay.

Like a dream the magic scene brings
your love to me, in the dance where
hearts sing.

The window,sunlight,snowfall and dreams
,all are dusted with sweet memories.

I made a stop while in the city to see my dear friend Olga. I have known her more than half of my life. She played an instrumental part, both her and her family in my life. They were my summers, my holidays and a big part of the good memories that I hold closest to my heart. Time has taken its toll, at eighty five years of age, she hasn't excepted the changes that aging has played upon her life. I found the few hours with her both warming and a bit sad.
Olga is the last surviving member of her intermediate family and as with my own grandmother, I could never imagine how difficult it must be to watch those you love pass on. Because of her unwillingness to accept the changes and welcome a new day, the loneliness which she suffers eats away at her spirit. I tried to tell her that is what memories are for through the millions of photographs she attained over the years. She said it is not enough.
I gave her the lecture on the holiday story, " it's a wonderful life" and reminded of what she has done for so many people. She cried, I cried with her. She mentioned after her parents had died that she wished to see them in a dream. She said they have been gone almost fifty years and it wasn't till this week that she had a dream of her mother. She said she couldn't remember much other than her mother saying Olga hasn't come home yet. She than looked at me and said "I am not afraid. "
It really is about excepting change and for Olga she stood still while the world around her moves on. Each day brings something new, it's always a moment waiting to happen. New people, places faces and rarely is it what we think it will be like. Gifts, the most precious gifts are those you least expect that come in most unique packaging, the colorful joy of life.It is not that she has aged that is so sad, it is that she believes she has aged that is difficult to watch.

Aging is the willingness to give in and
the difference between living and existing.
It's not what we can't do in life
but we can do.

In reality the ten year old dominates
for through the eyes of a child I am
reminded that anything is possible.


Allow the heart the depth of emotion to view the world in most simplistic state.

I am as all that have gone before me,
a spirit in the wind.

Love is so grand that it lights the darkest of night
as it brings a sense of warmth to the soul.

1 comment:

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