An Early Snow
Frozen whiteness piles up thick on leaves
From the late October northeaster storm.
Bending comes to supple branches at ease,
Unaccustomed to snow, too far from norm.
Bending before braking serves all life well,
Sort of like thinking before actually acting.
All stories are pent up in us ready to tell,
They are time massaged awaiting the saying.
Weather has ways of tempering our actions
Into pauses and interruptions as we all react
Unscripted. Final outcomes move to reactions
Brought about through tough bending is a fact.
Planning may get the snow shovel waxed ready,
Or the lawn mower tuned, sharpened, cleaned.
Anticipation's good as long as thought's steady
On track, free of falling back on ideas dreamed.
But, dreams inspire what we want our World to be.
A future, free of dreams, would be a sterile place :
Void of bright colors, lush plants, clear water free
To drink from, A Fountain Of Youth, a lovely space.
A misplaced October snow prompted this poem
Which challenges us to think alternative thought.
Should we act or react or just let our minds roam
Through time, sifting comfortable dreams, sought?
Ronald C. Downie
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