I want the spring but can’t help noticing how lovely the snow is coming…like twirling pieces of confetti, a thousand souls gently falling.  Perhaps they will water my spring flowers.

If you feel despair as you sometimes do before your sleeping toes even touch the floor, wait, despair will flee, will be pushed away perhaps if only while you feel the warmth of your coffee cup this morning.

February so far has brought death, despair and suicide notes, a book of unexpected poems, a greeting from a long lost friend on a Rothko card.

It’s true what someone once said  you can hear ” The Almost Sound of Snow Falling”….

Go and walk outside breathe and taste the falling dancing happy snow it may be the last chance to hear your soul falling, somehow the snow outside, the pure prehistoric whiteness made even the dirty dusty dingy house inside, fresher, cleaner, and not just to my mind but to my very eyes.

Walking to the bus stop I know that this one day or maybe just one hour is my last chance to feel my cares float away like the falling snow, an eternity from cloud to ground.