Laura Bloomsbury is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight
and has prompted us with 'Paradox' We were to choose
one of three lines from Paul Dunbar's "The Paradox"
or the line given from Wallace Stevens' The Snow Man"
I chose the second option:
"For the listener, who listens in the snow, And,nothing himself, beholds nothing that is not thereand the nothing that is."
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Having just sat outside quietly on a bench last week, in the midst of a very quiet and peaceful snowfall, catching flakes on my eyelashes, no one else around me so my mask was off, I found this a wonderful descriptive write. The snow flakes that fall quietly, each unique yes. And then as they build, they form that compact wall….impenetrable and their individual beauty unseeable…and then, especially in the city (I live in Boston), that gets the city grime and dirt on it….the opposite of the beauty it was in its individuality…and then the mush you mention. I’d never thought of the “stages” of snow until I read this. An excellent write from my perspective!
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Christine Bolton
February 25, 2021 at 11:26 am
Dear Lillian, thank you so much for your lovely comments. How special that you are experiencing snow in your peaceful solitude 🥰 It’s something I haven’t seen in while and sometimes I miss it, but only to see and touch. Not to live in it again 😕. Stay warm my friend.
You’ve captured the beauty and fragility of a snowflake here, Christine: the paradox of the ephemeral which seems eternal – or is it the other way round?
Beautiful one!!! I want a book from you😃
Oh you’re so kind! Thank you ☺️. I’m working on the book 👍
This is gorgeous, gorgeous writing, Christine! 💝💝 I love; “Creating walls of compacted
virgin whiteness stacked high.” 🙂
Thank you do much Sanaa. I lived the prompt. It really pushed me ☺️
Having just sat outside quietly on a bench last week, in the midst of a very quiet and peaceful snowfall, catching flakes on my eyelashes, no one else around me so my mask was off, I found this a wonderful descriptive write. The snow flakes that fall quietly, each unique yes. And then as they build, they form that compact wall….impenetrable and their individual beauty unseeable…and then, especially in the city (I live in Boston), that gets the city grime and dirt on it….the opposite of the beauty it was in its individuality…and then the mush you mention. I’d never thought of the “stages” of snow until I read this. An excellent write from my perspective!
Dear Lillian, thank you so much for your lovely comments. How special that you are experiencing snow in your peaceful solitude 🥰 It’s something I haven’t seen in while and sometimes I miss it, but only to see and touch. Not to live in it again 😕. Stay warm my friend.
Snow is like the fading beauty of life… it comes gently but leaves in a mush.
Yes, I love that description 🥰
Silently they fall and silently they disappear yet they have such an impact on us. Beautiful poem.
Thanks Lisa. Yes, snowflakes are so beautiful aren’t they. I find them quite magical ☺️
Christine – I loved this.
And these lines in particular – I loved the imagery in them and how you tied them together with S sounds:
Well done!
Yours,
David
Thanks David. I really appreciate it ☺️
these excellent lines would certainly resonate with Wallace Stevens
“Reticent, uncommunicative
Sentinels of stillness, unmoving”
thank you for joining with the prompt
Thank you Laura. I always appreciate your feedback. Loved this one! ☺️
You’ve captured the beauty and fragility of a snowflake here, Christine: the paradox of the ephemeral which seems eternal – or is it the other way round?
Thanks Ingrid ☺️ I’m so happy you liked it.
Nicely written!
Thanks Rob!
💖💖💖💖💖
Thank you!!!!! ☺️
Very beautiful!
Thanks dear Lucy. You know how much I appreciate it ☺️💕
Beautifully written Christine
Thank you dear friend 🥰
You’re welcome 😉