snowfall and advent
A walk back from late night Latin studying, and a new world of fresh fluffy snow to walk through: half an hour's scribbling later, and here we are. Just thoughts, scattered and free as the snow though considerably less delicate and tragically less graceful. Perhaps I shall someday harmonize them into poetry. perhaps not.
***
The ways that had become familiar
Collide softly with the less known
Campus bisected and defined by circuitous paths
Becomes a mysterious unity of whiteness
Shapes usually large and imposing in the daily air
Shrink before the simple monstrosity of purity
.
All thoughts are suspended, all daily life
(which should have this at its heart, which should
Through the paths remember the whole
And remember the waiting which our patterns
Are meant to enfold, to reveal) is swaddled in stillness
And everything waits: without the restlessness
Of summer twilight, without the vague dissatisfaction
Of autumn or the sudden comfort of spring, waits
And patience is indissoluble from joy
.
In the stillness, between the bleary awe of finals-weary students,
The snow angels cheerfully emblazoned by the more industrious, and
Cloudcover and covered paths and yellow lights of Fairie-
Silent waiting for a Coming, silent knowledge that it has already come
And the second fulfillment will justify the schism of the seasons
***
Joy and peace to all
And to all a good night...that 8am Latin final is looking less and less agreeable...