On the first day of the new year

The first snow.

A blank page . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

White space

Yet unmarked

 

Fields of fresh-fallen snow

Unbroken and undisturbed

 

“Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” -Anne of G.G.

(The new year is the tomorrow of the old, and is now here.)

 

Snow

(The first real snow of this winter here

In the North Country)

And blank space

 

and words born from the silence:

Suppose we did our work
like the snow, quietly, quietly,
leaving nothing out.
-Wendell Berry

New year

New snow

New hope

 

And many new days and blank pages

Waiting to be filled

Most of all

With

 

Stillness

 

Perhaps.

I can think of little more needed

Or more valuable.

Be still my soul.

-RKP, 1/1/16

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