Footprints in the Snow
footprints in the snow.
tiny unnamed orphan lifetimes
that melt without a sound
and are lost forever.
candlewax melted to the formless,
mountains worn down over a millennia...
the faces of wrinkled old men
and newborn babies, one and the same.
the fleeting dance of a butterfly,
a river singing across centuries.
70 years,50 years,20 years, ...
or maybe just tonite!
coming back over and over again,
or dissolving like ash into the wind.
a dropp of rain, or the surge of an ocean,
stone stacked upon stone, or thistle?
footprints in the snow...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Stone
how is it to be a stone?
how is it to be hard
and unfeeling?
how is it to be still
and immobile
rooted in
its place for years
and centuries
not growing
not speaking not listening
to the songs and sighs
of the river?
how is it to be completely
defenseless against
the moss
that invades and
covers
your body
of stone
the coldness
of the rain and
the boredom of the time
in years, in centuries?
how is it to be just being
inanimate
unmoved
untouched and
untouching?
you
you touch no one and nobody touches you
an island
of stone
you
are the stone
the rock
against
the middle
of the raging river
and i am asking all these questions to you.
oh! i am always the foolish one
petrified
facing you all day and getting
no answers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crucifix
we, who walk with shoulders bent,
leaving bloody footprints in the snow.
our very lives a crucifix, by design,
our hunger unabated by the stars...
pray with calloused hands grimy
with the work of the heart.
whispered deaths lost to the wind,
nothing held back, or denied...
we, who walk with shoulders bent,
leaving bloody footprints in the snow...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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They Might Be Giants
Hang on
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be rain
They might be heat
They might be frying up a stalk of wheat
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be brain
They might be washed
They might be dr. spocks back-up band
To make the merry-go-round go faster
So that everyone needs to hang on tighter
Just to keep from being thrown to the wolves
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be bald
They might be snow
They might be something else in the snow
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be fake
They might be lies
They might be big, big, fake, fake lies
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears
There is a man standing in the rain in a cemetery in front of his deceased wife's gravesite. He appears to be crying. Her death occurred years ago and left him with everlasting grief. He is resigned to this fact so everything he sees and hears casts him further into this state of mind.
This day is no different than all the previous times, except this time, the rain, a bird and a sound of bells contribute to his continued descent.
The rain concealed the tears he shed today.
He cried this way so many times before
but always alone. No rain can wash away
his anguish, anxiety... nevermore!
A tiny feathered harbinger alight
her stone and cocked its head. A dropp of rain
upon its beak it seemed to weep in sight
of him, a tear; then takes to flight again.
A distant tintinnabulation from
a church’s belfry pealed so mournfully.
He muses: fleeting wings of death had come
and taken from me so prematurely
my lover, leaving only heavens tears
to drench my heart with sadness all these years.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Enigmatically Truthful
Day begins with night; Yet shadows do not stay;
With the breaking of dawn, darkness flees away.
We observe as the wind twists limbs of a tree;
Yet enigmatically the wind itself we can't see.
Snow falls; melts into the river; flows to the sea;
Heat pulls it back into the air; again snow it'll be.
Water runs downhill and will at its course stay;
Carving through stone; mountains eating away.
Animals hop and leap the moment life's begun,
Yet a human takes some years to walk and run.
Truly into a forest you can walk only half way;
For then you will be walking out or there stay.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around,
Although no one hears it, it still makes a sound,
In reality a bell is an ornament until it is rung,
Of a truth a song is just words until it is sung,
A word is thought until it is penned or spoken;
For up until then it is only an unformed token.
GOD does not permit love in your heart to stay,
Knowing that love cannot be until given away!
poem by Joseph Blitch
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Footprints In The Snow
I love, I love, oh, I still love you
Cant wait to see the firelight in your eyes
Thats why I wait for your footsteps in the snow
I dream each night that I will wake to find you
Sleeping deep and still down by my side
Thats why I wait for your footprints in the snow
Time after time
Year after year
Forever
I will love you
In deepest winter, darkest hours youll find me
At midnight silence, tremble at the glow
Thats why I wait for your footprints in the snow
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tor House
If you should look for this place after a handful
of lifetimes:
Perhaps of my planted forest a few
May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast
cypress, haggard
With storm-drift; but fire and the axe are devils.
Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers
had the art
To make stone love stone, you will find some remnant.
But if you should look in your idleness after ten
thousand years:
It is the granite knoll on the granite
And lava tongue in the midst of the bay, by the mouth
of the Carmel
River-valley, these four will remain
In the change of names. You will know it by the wild
sea-fragrance of wind
Though the ocean may have climbed or retired a little;
You will know it by the valley inland that our sun
and our moon were born from
Before the poles changed; and Orion in December
Evenings was strung in the throat of the valley like
a lamp-lighted bridge.
Come in the morning you will see white gulls
Weaving a dance over blue water, the wane of the moon
Their dance-companion, a ghost walking
By daylight, but wider and whiter than any bird in
the world.
My ghost you needn't look for; it is probably
Here, but a dark one, deep in the granite, not
dancing on wind
With the mad wings and the day moon.
Submitted by Holt
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Whispers Of The North
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
To that wild and barren land
Where nature takes its course
Whispers of the wind
Soon I will be there again
Bound with a wild and restless drive
That pulls me from within
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will return again
To those endless afternoons
In sunshine and in rain
Whispers of my love
Days and weeks on end
I will share my thoughts of her
In prayers that I will send
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
The river and the shore
In the land that tested eskimos
Ten thousand years before
Whispers of my heart
In the tracks of animals
I will leave my footprints there
To lie beneath the snow
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the wind
I will feel it sting
I will see it rise and fall
I will hear it sing
The sound is like a song to me
It takes away the pain
The river is the melody
And sky is the refrain
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picture Me
Picture me on a cold, wintry day,
the snow crunching under my feet,
snow flakes kiss me as we meet.
They whirl and twirl in wintry dance,
on the look-out for romance.
My joyous heart beats its wintry song,
I once again feel young and strong,
Revitalized and energized, I record
my footprints in the snow to tell
this day has not gone by,
watching through a window pane,
the magic wonder of transformed rain.
poem by Elke Nigro
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Innocence Died With the Coming of Spring
The snow fell all night
In the morning
The world was transformed
Into a vision of purity.
Six months later
The weather warmed.
The snow melted
Revealing six months
Accumulation of dog turds
Perfectly preserved
And just as fresh
As the day they were laid.
These things can twist a
Young mind
They put the zap on mine
Fifty years latter
I cannot contemplate
Purity without
Wondering how long
It will take
For the snow to melt.
poem by Allan Thorne
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Melt Down
In a way, even by still-life, sunlit
day. Visionary problematic Picasso, poet,
walks in serene snow covered night.
Leaving footprints in virgin untrod snow
silent select seekers may later follow.
Ever after several have melted in shadow.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Foot Prints In The Snow
Footprints in the snow
Little faces all aglow
Voices filled with song and laughter
Echoing toward the pale sky rafters
Snow people soon appear
So happy snow days are here!
12: 49 AM-12: 51
December 20,2009
Dorothy Alves Holmes
poem by Dorothy Holmes
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Weasel words with easy starts are not the first ones to our hearts
Weasel words
with easy starts
are not the first
ones to our hearts
when the cold cadaver light of day
takes one of those we love away
After the funeral
- when the funeral was over
- After we had buried him
We walked across the grass
We walked across the grass
leaving footprints in the dew
footprints in the dew
How was that possible
’God’s name how was that possible
with him forever
And now, forever
footprints forever
looking back across the grass
The warmth of the day
losing us all, forever
poem by Sean Joyce
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River In Time
Now fly with the wind
The spirits running free
The mountains have turned to dust
And the desert is a ragging sea
Im a prisoner no more
If I just believe my eyes
(its hard to believe it)
(youve just got to believe it)
Now Ive opened this door
And my future waits inside
(I know its hard to believe)
Looking at eternity
Love is a river in time
Now and forever
A bridge between lifetimes
Here there are no good-byes
And your dreams never die
Love is a river in time
A million years from now
Will war be obsolete?
Will man live on the moon?
Will flowers smell as sweet?
Take this magic carpet ride
Going to the promise land
(I know its hard to believe it)
(youve just got to believe it)
We shall need the human touch
Every woman, child and man
(everybody believe it)
(reach across and take my hand)
Love is a river in time
(love is a river in time)
Now and forever
A bridge between lifetimes
Here there is no future no past
Love is all we have
Love is a river in time
A river in time
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Run Home, Run Home Butterfly
run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly
there’s rain and hail
and the wind blows wild;
what are you doing
flitting idly by?
run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly
duck for cover
excuse the expression;
hide under a tree
or go sleep under the leaves;
have you no sense
of impeding danger?
Oh run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly
the wind blows hard
and you’re being blown around;
what happens if
a tiny hail stone
swings a hole in a wing
or worse -
oh fragile butterfly -
I don’t want to be here to see
a hail stone the size of a child’s fist
land smack on your gentle head
so run home
run home
you silly
playful butterfly;
run run run
fly fly fly
poem by Raj Arumugam
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A Day Like No Other in the Coming Years
A Day Like No Other in the Coming Years
By: Adam M. Snow
A day like no other in the coming years,
whether we suffer from lost or fears.
But together united after township pass
the love of those who loved; alas:
it be that of hate which plagues all hearts.
Alas! Love the reason hate departs.
But a mystery of love, a day like no other,
losing light by hate to another.
Fading away like a rose in the fall
without thy love, we lost all.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Tundra
Short arctic desert day ---
And someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Look around every which way
But I cant see just where the footprints go.
Is it a casual disappearance? ---
Plucked from the middle atmosphere
Like straw wind-blown.
No speck on the horizon ---
No simple message scrawled
Upon the snow.
Unearthly visitation ---
Someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Hungry buzzard flier
Circling round and round
Rattling deaths tambourine.
Have to run it down the cold wire ---
Late insertion in tomorrows lost and found.
Should I spread out searching?
But Im a little thin upon the ground.
So I raise my lips to coax
The last drop of brandy from the bottle.
Rest my feet and contemplate
The mystery thats haunting
This siberian space.
Show-shoes they bind me down ---
Im just one more parasite of the surface layer.
I begin to get the feeling
Ive been on this stage before
And Im the only player.
One more arctic desert day ---
Another set of shoes out in the tundra snow.
I make my fade to white-out
And you cant see me where my footprints go.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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339
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About A Stone Without A Door
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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