December 20th, 2012
11:50 p.m.
The wind whipping through open windows,
with the heat on full furnace blast,
the proper blend of fire with ice
on this five hour drive.
The arrival, among the abundant fields
Filled with untouched snow,
The celestial spotlight shines
Upon the family legacy.
The snow languishes atop the sleeping souls,
Disturbed by the crunch under my soles,
I pause--Reading names as the wind
Whispers my destiny.
The barren branches bow in respect clicking
their applause, as I face death head on,
yet pensively, the last limb
of a proud family tree.
The crisp night air fills lungs that crave more;
These “icyhighs” of winter will be missed,
When the deafening silence befalls
Us all.
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James M. Emmerling
Deborah Young
Pavanne Veltman
Jacob Sugarman
Deborah Méndez Wilson
Emily Conyngham
Salon.com
Comments
:)
Whispers my destiny.
Gosh, how I love that--tapping into the idea that death is very democratic.
As far as the deafening silence goes, I've thought about that a lot--I'll have to write about--on this plane of existence it will indeed be deafening silence for each one of us. My preference is to believe that in the beginning there was the music, and in the end there will also be the music.
I am shocked!!!!
This is astonishingly good!!!!
Thanks so much for participating, and OMG this is just amazing!!!!
I like that you included winter here ... for me, in the southern hemisphere, it will be Summer.
Wonderfully done!
R
Astonishingly lovely and touching!
.
I guess now I won't be as scared to write poems when future challenges arise!