I was browsing through some of "My Docs" while listening to some new music downloads (wow, I have actually spent almost a whole day at the computer doing various things and am not dying in pain -- though I am a little achy) when I ran in to this poem that I wrote back in November. I don't think I posted it and decided to do it now. Here you go:
I call it "His Snowstorm"
Your love is like a Nebraskan cornfield in winter
The love is there,
It�s abundant,
But it�s trapped under the weight of the snow
It waits for spring to bloom.
The snow that covers it is deep and it is cold.
The top layer is hard and icy, unbreakable by shovel
It has melted and refroze so many times, it is like titanium.
I try to break through, but it is so strong.
I know that the snow beneath the cover is soft,
If I can get through the icy shell, I can dig you out.
With pickaxe, with shovel, with jackhammers, I cannot get through to the shell.
I live off the sturdy stalks that grow through here and there,
Poking their heads through the barren white landscape.
They remind me that you are still there, your love is there,
Buried under the snow.
They give me a glimpse of hope,
That when spring arrives
There will be enough love left to sustain another season.
In other news, I'm actually starting to feel human again. I think the 49 days of traveling in 58 days was so much especially following a head injury. My brain still feels kind of mushy and like pieces are missing. But I am functional again, or at least feel functional, like I could live again, like work and go out and be a person and not just a little ball of dough curled up on the floor waiting for the yeast to work.
