The landscape is devoid of any color,
save mostly black and white. The trees are adorned with a fresh
snowfall.
Mooncast shadows lay atop the blanket of snow,
slowly my eyes adjust to the darkness.
I walk in silence, my breath freezing to mist in the midnight air.
It trails behind me like smoke from a locomotive.
Slowly the silence surrounds me,
enveloping me in it’s embrace, the soothing silence of a
winters walk.
A meditative solitude often sought, rarely found.
Cold fingers of winter air pry at the seams of my coat,
seeking to steal my heat.
Returning home I warm myself by the fire,
complacent.
About the Creator
Katie
Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli5 days ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.