Our Snowman
written by: LadyLily
@AFairymary
Mined from a solar stream of silver,
Voiceless in a tomb-like silence,
He strives to talk…
A wondrous look, senses far greater than gold,
Howling wind steals his breath.
An opal aura spins around his body,
He relies on his mind.
One day his barriers will dissolve,
His being will swell then spill,
An overflow of ecstasy returning to the source.
Scare-crowed branches claw the darkness,
In the curves of the hills an ancient language speaks,
Snowman listens, understanding every word.
He is much older than his form.
Sleepless he gazes over a quivered blue lake,
A blue lake framed for geese to glide…
they buff its silver foil surface,
transforming new ice to a sheet of platinum.
Our iced guardian observes a hairline crack,
Patiently awaiting the fracture,
As lakeside, bullying trees shatter the silence.
Snowdrifts spin white tornadoes,
Swallows swerve, dipping into spumed sheets of snow,
Rummaging for mummified morsels.
This Snowman knows he will never see the Lily or Rose,
Or hear their soft summer vibrations…
When he melts to death his spirit will stretch across the nightscape,
Remembering Red Robin, Blackbird, and the cold blows
that carried firing sparks, lighting the chatter in the hills.
Still hearing the Earth breathing, spent tree limbs falling.
His happiness fills the heavens until the next Winter dawns.
An empty space filled once more,
As our Snowman sneaks through the season’s revolving door.
There to savour every snowfall’s whispered moment.
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