Friday, November 28


heartache and despondence
as the snow flakes

Despite being up until 3 am, skyping with my extended family, I am bouncy as a tigger today. The snow is falling in droves and I just can't get enough. It is remarkably comforting. It's transforming this foreign land into everything I knew as a child... sledding, snow ball fights, cold red fingers... and I feel more like myself again. More connected and in tune with everything around me.

I'll leave the rest to my favorite poet, Anne Sexton...


blessed snow,
comes out of the sky
like bleached flies.
The ground is no longer naked.
The ground has on its clothes.
The trees poke out of sheets
and each branch wears the sock of God.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
I bite it.
Someone once said:
Don't bite till you know
if it's bread or stone.
What I bite is all bread,
rising, yeasty as a cloud.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
Today God gives milk
and I have the pail.


  1. Lovely poem. :) We totally forgot to call Hubby's family yesterday. Then again, they also forgot to call us. :p

  2. that is a lovely poem, thanks for sharing it with us.

  3. Anne Sexton is also one of my favorite poets. I'm glad you could have snow for the holiday.

  4. What a beautiful poem. I am so glad to know you found a balm for your soul-I've been beaming you well wishes! *smooches*

  5. Your words are lovely as aggregating snow!
    Mahalo from Waikiki where only blossoms are falling. . .

  6. Thanks for all your uplifting comments. The blues rarely haunt me for more than a passing moment...

    I'm glad you like Anne Sexton too... I've always felt in tune with her slightly out of sync rhythm.


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