White... Quiet
The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands
to bless her final rest
snowflake upon snowflake
falling into the empty endless grave
as if prayer
upon prayer
until all was white...quiet.
No people ever came
then...& now.
As a child
she held the treasure
of the first snowflakes falling
one by one
resting on her eyelids
(her mind blossoming
into awe & wonder)
tasting them upon her tongue
as if the sky was shedding itself
the snowflakes came
in their thousands
erasing the language
of the landscape
like a child's drawing
all things dressed in white
all things held in silence.
The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands
snowflake upon snowflake
untill all
was white
...quiet.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Related quotes
God's Lil' Snowflakes
God’s lil’ Snowflake
Snowflakes are denizens
Of cold winter sky
Drawn from grey clouds
To icy drifts, where they lie
They blanket bare limbs
Of cold shivering trees
Through which they swim
Like swarms of crystalline bees
Individually formed,
no two are alike…and which with,
Mother Nature, the artist
Paints her canvas of white
Each snowflake is a delight
The best of which is among
The delight in a child’s eyes
When snowflake lights on the tongue
poem by David Whalen
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The Impossibility Of Identical Snowflakes
Once upon a time
throughout most of
the twentieth century
it was believed no
two snowflakes
could be exactly alike.
Mathematically it is
highly unlikely
for two snowflakes
to be exactly alike.
This is due to
the roughly
10 to power 19
water molecules
which make up
a snowflake.
Snowflakes grow
at different rates
in different patterns.
The snowflake
growth rate pattern
probabilities vary
depending on
changing temperature
changing humidity
within the atmosphere
the snowflake
growth falls through
on its journey
to the ground
gravity induced.
The dawn birth
of snowflake
scientific research
began in 1885
initial attempts
to identify find
identical twin snowflakes
by photographing
thousands of snowflakes.
Wilson Alwyn Bentley
using a microscope
found the wide variety
of classic snowflakes
forms known today
in eye matching detail.
Probability theory
holds it is more likely
that two snowflakes
could become virtually
identical if their changing
temperature humidity
environments
were
similar enough.
Matching snow crystals
were discovered in
Wisconsin USA in 1988.
The crystals were not traditional
flakes but hollow hexagonal prisms
true moral of the snowflake story?
If you want to spend years
trying to identify
identical snowflakes in eye
matching detail; do not use error
random eye memory method
use instant point match computer.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Am Snow
I am Snow, I am
I am cold, be damned
I am silent long
I am silent song
I am quiet like
Falling snow at night
I am peaceful...yes
Here on Earth as guest
I am often random
Snowflake not in tandem
Different drummers beat
Destiny to meet
I am beauty wasted
Snowflake seldom tasted
Changing always, ever
Quirky winter weather
I am sometime Blizzard
Hostile, weak-willed wizard
Havoc in my wake
Causing souls to shake
I am Snow I am
I can grow, I can
Sky of beauty white
Touching Heaven's light
poem by Kenneth Snow
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Snowflakes Falling
Snowflakes, falling, from miraculous heights.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, airy and light.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, a blanket of white.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, crystalline delight.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
poem by Ben Payton
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A Snowy Scene
As each new snowfall comes
and covers up the ground
everything beneath it
is still all around.
Our eyes do not see it
so we forget it for a time.
The blanket of snowy white
covers up the grime.
When the snow starts melting
our eyes must then adjust
to the reality of seeing
the soot, the stone and dust.
We like to remember it
and let our mind review
the flaky white landscape
with freshness that was new.
As the flakes are falling
we anticipate the scene.
It reminds us there is nothing
that ever looks that clean.
Integrate this feeling.
Make it a part of you.
For each new snowflake is a gift
that falls for you to view.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Airborn Seeds
seeds fall
out of the bosom
of the air,
the seed
of each
unique
snowflake
born,
born from
the bosom
of mother nature,
the milk
of her
winter
nurturing
woven landscape,
the seed
are the snowflakes
born from
the cloud-folds
of her garments shaken,
soon to be shaken,
'Over the woodlands brown and bare'.
Quoted line from ‘Snowflakes’ by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A snowflake passed this way
Fragile is the mind
That cannot see a friend
Fragile too is the snowflake
Seeking sanctuary on my window sill
Both are anonymous to the world
The dreamers will see many snow flakes
Whose beauty we can only imitate
Within this gift, there is a place
That reminds us of the summer days to come
A garden for the soul
Where Friends are bees
That pollinates the spirit with love
For you too are part of a fragile world
Seeking life’s journey
A visitor within a snowflake
Beautiful and Unique
Born to melt away
In the heat of time
For it is an honour to know a life that others did not
To be chosen by this snowflake on my window sill
A memory for my garden to keep
And perhaps that is enough for anyone’s existence
poem by Steven Cooke
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There'll be no one in the house...
There'll be no one in the house
Save for twilight. All alone,
Winter's day seen in the space that's
Made by curtains left undrawn.
Only flash-past of the wet white
Snowflake clusters, glimpsed and gone.
Only roofs and snow, and save for
Roofs and snow-no one at home.
Once more, frost will trace its patterns,
I'll be haunted once again
By my last year's melancholy,
By that other wintertime.
Once more, I'll be troubled by an
Old unexpiated shame,
And the icy firewood famine
Will press on the window-pane.
But the quiver of intrusion
Through those curtains folds will run.
Measuring silence with your footsteps,
Like the future, in you'll come.
You'll appear there in the doorway
Wearing something white and plain,
Something in the very stuff from
Which the snowflakes too are sewn.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Snowflakes
Snowflakes falling from the sky
Heading towards the Earth
Knowing not what they will become
Upon their destination and then rebirth.
Maybe they will become decorations
Upon the bushes and on the trees
Or maybe they will become dancers
While being moved by the breeze.
Perhaps they will become a snowball
As being formed in a child's tiny hand
Or maybe they will be a form of a snow angel
Or perhaps they will become a snowman.
Snowflakes as they are falling
From the heavens unto the ground
Quietly as they move and as they turn
And not once do they utter a sound.
Snowflakes as many as they will fall
And as they say not any two are the same
So they hurry to drift upon the ground
And maybe hoping not to turn into rain.
They too are mine and a child's happiness
As though to a child it seems that they do call
But I too am excited about their coming
I love the snowflakes as they do fall.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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There Are Thousands And Thousands
there are thousands and thousands of poems
written everyday in this world where we, whether we like it or not,
still continue living, breathing, writing, sighing,
whatever that we do, singing, bathing, playing, mourning,
there are thousands and thousands of poems
thousands of us, doing the same boring things in this world,
you are one of us, we are us, us, us, us,
thousands, and trillions, we are us,
despite, i have my ears for you, my eyes,
all for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Snowflakes
Soft snowflakes drift daintily down,
Without so much as a single sound.
Swirling around, they're a dazzling sight,
And they make the world seem so bright.
Each flake possesses a pattern so very rare,
That no two flakes can make a matching pair.
They each take on a very delicate form,
Which melts away, when it gets warm.
Each unique, frozen crystal is so very tiny;
Glistening in the sunlight, they look so shiny.
Each is a masterpiece: a major work of art,
Which, from our lives, will very soon depart.
Falling snowflakes appear so fluffy and soft,
When, caught by the wind, they dance aloft.
Single snowflakes are as light as a feather,
But weigh a ton, when collected together.
On every surface, the snowflakes collect:
Soon, with white, everything is bedecked.
The snowflakes form a thick carpet of white,
As they settle down, following their flight.
Things, which were familiar to our eyes,
Are suddenly more difficult to recognise.
Snow seems to change the world's face,
And it suddenly seems a different place.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Sunshine; Soothing song of a Snowflake and a Volcano
'Hey! Dear you rest on my bosom a long time
And don't think that I have a cold heart,
Yes of course I have a warm heart
Like lukewarm water, but purposely I made it frozen
Otherwise you melt and flow away.'
Mountain said sadly.
'That I know my friend
When the cruel Sun peeps
Then I have to leave you soon.'
Snowflake cried.
Another day Sun peeps
And started his usual War song;
'Sad to sing, yet nothing has written
in the History of Lovers
Where the Snowflakes and Volcanoes eloped? '
*[ Kindness is a language the dumb can speak, and the deaf can hear and understand.- Christian Bovee]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Winter Symphony
Autumn colors have gone
Birds fled south with their song
Snowflakes cover the earth quietly
Night extends through the hours
Coolly lit by the stars
The pulse of life slows silently
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Somewhere children outside
Screamin down a daredevil slide
Rosy-cheeked bundles of cold-weather clothes
Hear the winter winds howl
Pierced by the hoot of an owl
Fingers of frost take a nip at my nose
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying at Night
Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
snaps on his yard light, drawing his sheds and barn
back into the little system of his care.
All night, the cities, like shimmering novas,
tug with bright streets at lonely lights like his.
poem by Ted Kooser
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A Snowflake (Tritina)
When the wonder of a hexagon binds
I am caught by the very bright beauty
of a tiny white snowflake that glitters,
that forms a unique pattern that glitters
of which the core intimately binds
with a own texture, sparkle and beauty
that sticks around a grain of dust in beauty
as falling snow that in the air glitter
when water vapour as ice crystals binds;
where it binds with beauty, while it glitters.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Man lowers his head and lunges into civilization, forgetting the days of his infancy when he sought truth in a snowflake or a stick. Man forgets the wisdom of the child.
quote by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter fun
Delicious snowflake
floating perfect then melting
on my outstretched tongue
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bells Ringing
bells ringing...
thousands and thousands
of bells.... ringing....
the chorus of crows,
the sound of the whip
cracking on thousands
of backs, , ,
black and white,
brown and red....
the fat-bellied ticket taker
stands with hand outstretched...
cant pay the fare... cant ride....
left standing on the corner
of lost, and nameless.
marching to death, leaving
no trace, no footprints....
the bastard children of freedom,
no home to return to....
look up, look up!
the skies full of wings!
bells are ringing!
thousands and thousands
of bells... and each one
has a name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Will Nature At A Time Be Really Lost? (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Archibald MacLeish)
Will nature at a time be really lost,
no snowflake fall
as the world becomes extremely hot,
while big and small
live in a man-made kind of sheer hot hell?
If man kills all;
the fish, each bird, each animal and tree,
what's living will at a time, no more be.
No bird will sing, or even be flying,
tranquility
will be gone in a world as stark as stone,
each thing lovely,
each leaping fish, diving crying great eagle
will die slowly,
when all of the ozone layer is gone
and the greenhouse effect just lingers on.
[Reference: 'The Snowflake Which Is Now And Hence Forever' by Archibald MacLeish.}
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Butterfly Effect
The Butterfly Effect
Foreword
An Adelpha Cytherea changed the cycle of events,
as she left the rotting tree and flew to ground.
Whereon she took her moisture, then she held her wings, so tense
that the swift, ensuing flap could cause, the weather to astound.
That lightest shift of molecules, that domino effect,
would end outside the realms of credulation.
As two tornados turned that day and came to intercept
the origin of what may be her lifetime meditation....
_______________
'A single snowflake caught her eye, as it fell from a cloudless sky
Drifting then lifting, then as one, undulating. She followed its path
as it searched for her tongue...'
_______________
I was that solitary snowflake, left to wanton winds' device
caught between the chrysalis of rain and vapour, hail and ice,
cast adrift from fellow souls who once were in my throng.
I was that solitary snowflake searching for the siren's song.
Lifted from the saturated, cloud-borne bed of all my piers
radically accelerated, wherein seconds, may be years.
The two tornados meshed and merged, creating as they clashed
a pinpoint, perfect wind which surged to carry me on its icy blast.
Without the massed distracting din of fellow crystals forming
I failed to notice, in descent, the air around me warming.
Instead, below, I sensed a soul. A strong magnetic pull.
A beauty or a bitter goal, befitting of a fool?
With no external influences, no innate need to control
I willed myself toward her senses. (Could communion make us whole?)
Her gaze had followed from on high
as I had came to be.
A tiny dot traversed her eye.
(our synchronicity?)
So deep in thought, what felt like hours,
scanning each slight change in course.
A nearby moth, exposed its powers,
advent of unwelcomed force.
The second when we would have met
her head held high, her tongue exposed
its breeze repaid Adelpha's debt...
I fell, instead...upon her nose.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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