Yesterday morning, while it was still dark, I stood with my nose almost touching the glass door to better make out the white cover on the ground. Finally, and gradually, as the light grew, it was a breathtaking moment of sheer ecstasy. Four inches of snow lay on the ground, pristine, crystalline, exquisite. Some years we get no snow at all, so it's an event when our beautiful grasslands and mountains get a heavy snowfall. I could barely look away from the window. And the dogs were wild with joy. Gracie, who almost disappears in the snow, pounced and bounced, thrilled when she could make the snow fly with her feet. Such fun. It didn't take long, however, for the melt to begin, and by late afternoon, most of it was gone. But oh, how magical while it lasted!
This quote came to my attention recently: "Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal into the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo." It does feel a little like that sometimes, but more often I feel as though I have been given an astounding gift when I receive feedback from someone who has been touched by one of my poems. Poetry is not everyone's cup of tea, of course, and for many years it was only a casual interest of mine. But I have come to love and respect the impact that a well-written poem can have on one's perspective on life. It allows us to look at something familiar in a whole new way, and to let the marvelous language we share open us to new emotion and understanding. What I attempt to do in all my work is to make poetry accessible and enlightening. Otherwise, why bother?
I'm going back to gaze at the mountain, all dressed in white! Cheers.