The Snow Man
When we focus on our own discomfort, we only see what the world is doing to me. When the wind blows cold, we see cold on our face. When it is raining, we see wet clothes. However, if we move past our discomfort we become aware of the landscape and much more. Now we can see the beauty around us as an artist or a photographer. Finally, we are reminded that the space around us maybe silent, but it never empty and never still.
What does this poem mean to you?
Errata: I'm don't know how I got from politics and science blog to a poetry entry. I guess there's no planning for the contingency of blogging (and life). Also I have multiple entries today since I write my blog entries offline and decided to post some of the entries I'd amassed.