Winter Poetry

 
 

One day I'll want to meet someone that's going to see snow for the very first time.

I want to see the marvel in their eyes as they sink their fingers in the white blanket that cuddled the ground.

I want to see myself in their amazement, back when we were kids and discovering these things by our own.

 

Remember when we were little? When we'd use to try and swallow as many snowflakes as we could, with our tiny mouths wide open to the sky? Our eyes were shut tightly. Those little pieces of winter were bothering our sight, cluttering on the tip of our nose and making our soft eyebrows bushy white.

What a joy it was to play in snow. What a revelation it was when we first found out that it was made out of water.

I always used to take a healthy size bite of a snowball I was making, shouting out to my kid buddies: "I'm thirsty! I'll just eat some of this."

Boy, was I cool back then.

Remember the first time you took a close look at a snowflake?

Remember the shape of it? The magic of it?

I had no idea it looked like those drawings off those red Christmas balls we had on our tree. I couldn't believe it.

It was by far one of the most astonishing AHA-moments I had as a kid.

How could something so tiny, be so precisely beautiful.

My parents would drive me and brother out of the city, towards a northern village next to Baia Mare. My grandparents were hosting a Christmas feast and we were all invited. I would be very quiet half of the way. Tracing the snow on the window glass with my finger. Trying to bend it with my mind. To take control of the course of that drop of water dancing in the wind. Sometimes they would behave as I would wish, other times they would connect to their family an d lovers droplets of water. They would unite and fall faster down, out of sight.

Whenever one passed away, another one would land in front of me.

First they would melt, then they would giggle, then they would fall.

You see, I think this is one of the qualities we're born with, but that we lose along the way. Pacience.

Giving ourselves time to just gaze out and be amazed by the plain beauty of being. Of seeing motion around us.

We're so used to think of what, we, as people, are building, doing, thinking, craving, that we forget there is life beyond that. Don't we?

We think of snow as an obstacle in our way. As a problem that affects us.

Well, here's the deal, it isn't all about us. It has nothing to do with our existence. It has it's own.

It's a cycle, just like our life, it's born and it dies, then it transforms, then it turns to life again.

Anything that has energy has a sort of life to it, don't you feel that way?

I do.

Yesterday I've been to my first yoga seminar.

No, stop! Don't think of me bending over and doing funny poses. We never got to that anyway.

But of the processes of thinking, the values we should shelter and the rules we should live by. Yoga is a spiritual process that brings all life together.

It helped me remember to just enjoy. To recall the patience I had when I was still new to almost anything.

 

We learned more than half of what we know from other people, right? But we needed to discover everything else ourselves.

The texture of fire, the transparency of water, the weight of stone, the bending of metals. The warmth of our moms hand. The blue color of the mountains in the distance.. The creases on the moon. The delay of thunder. Gravity? Time. Space.  All of it.

We used to love it. To watch it. To let it impress us deep down. Yeah, it, the world.

When did we stop having time for that?

 

When it snowed I would always spend at least 15-20 minutes quite staring out the window. I would watch it by night, settle down next to a street lamp shining the white in a warm gold shade.

The sky wasn't black anymore, it was bright. I felt life wasn't inside me, as much at it was out there. I felt connected.

I was the world and the world was in me.

How could I know this by then and grow into a educated, cultivated and quite witty human being, but still I forget.

Guess now we need yoga to point some things out for us, that have been right under our nose.

We need each other. We need to be inspired and to inspire further. We need to learn to give ourselves time. To slow down. To breath deep. To stop thinking and start feeling. To feel we're more than what we are. What we see and what we think. We're part of this grand master piece.

There is no art just as complex and beautiful as life itself.

Credits:

Anca Cheregi for the imges.

Wearing:

The fur accessories were an absolute deal, I got them from that outlet shop in Polus center for less than 30 Ron both. ( *smiling* )

Zara white pants and black poncho, MK bag, Pull&Bear belt.