bundles of clothes stumble through the white mantle of the day and twirl in the swirling flakes. chilling and beautiful, feeling the air become alive with the transformation of water to sculpture, love becomes thick and touches everyone. when the evening rests after the great whipping of the sky,the languid drops of spent fury sparkle from every leaf and blade of grass, the hills sigh and settle covered in their winters cloak.
living is most aware when the sky has cleared and the treasure of the passing storm is yet to be discovered. To open that door and explore the new world awaiting, that is the moment for truth. Theres no escaping the world when it snows, your drawn to its center and shown the miracles, the life of cold wonder and fire and heat, hot drinks and warm clothes, hats and scarfs. what a day to rest and read and write in your journal. what more is there for love to be present than snows reminder. in life we hide from the snow inside of us, the transformation of all our cares and woes into truth, about who we are and what we have become. The taking responsibility for the truth that we cant hide from. Its each of us, every soul that takes the journey, we all are creating the world we live in, but we think someone else is doing it, that we are the victim of life, and not the creators. the holocaust of our lives, to feel the emptiness of our lifes play and the hollowness of our human aspirations, that is the snowfall, the mantle of divine truth over the things and actions we live in. seeing for a few moments the perfection of dispassion, the incomplete creation we are buried in suddenly shining with a new realization. the truth looks barren and white and everything takes on a new and secret splendor, not of its own but from some higher source, that which we cannot see when truth is absent. let the snow fall and feel the chill of the frozen fear, the desires and attachments buried under the glowing radiance of the divine, covering everything with the sudden beautiful awareness that life is an instant of desire in an eternity of being, forever buried in the snow.
living is most aware when the sky has cleared and the treasure of the passing storm is yet to be discovered. To open that door and explore the new world awaiting, that is the moment for truth. Theres no escaping the world when it snows, your drawn to its center and shown the miracles, the life of cold wonder and fire and heat, hot drinks and warm clothes, hats and scarfs. what a day to rest and read and write in your journal. what more is there for love to be present than snows reminder. in life we hide from the snow inside of us, the transformation of all our cares and woes into truth, about who we are and what we have become. The taking responsibility for the truth that we cant hide from. Its each of us, every soul that takes the journey, we all are creating the world we live in, but we think someone else is doing it, that we are the victim of life, and not the creators. the holocaust of our lives, to feel the emptiness of our lifes play and the hollowness of our human aspirations, that is the snowfall, the mantle of divine truth over the things and actions we live in. seeing for a few moments the perfection of dispassion, the incomplete creation we are buried in suddenly shining with a new realization. the truth looks barren and white and everything takes on a new and secret splendor, not of its own but from some higher source, that which we cannot see when truth is absent. let the snow fall and feel the chill of the frozen fear, the desires and attachments buried under the glowing radiance of the divine, covering everything with the sudden beautiful awareness that life is an instant of desire in an eternity of being, forever buried in the snow.
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