Thursday 7 January 2010

Secret places of the Snow

Ava treaded heavily in the thick blanket of white snow. It sparkled, it crunched, and it did not melt. It was a foundation in its own right and covered everything in its fall. It was brilliant as it dazzled beneath the sun and the piercing blue skies.
He was a genius - the man who made the snow - he was an absolute genius.
Who else would have thought of it or know exactly how it formed and how it could be constructed?
He was the only one, in the whole planet earth and the skies above.
The only Einstein, and far beyond it.
It was like iced love and even ice-love is still love.
It looked like the stars had fallen out of the sky and sprinkled themselves across the white froth... it twinkled and shone at all angles.
The deer, the fox, wellie prints and others... ran their necessary courses across it.
And still it fell.
It draped every crevice, branch, house and path. Everybody HAD to stop and wait. They HAD to stop their usual activities and think. They looked around, she looked around, investigated it, tried it, tasted it, tested it... and oh it was very, very good.
The man who made the snow was certainly in charge. The country stood still and they waited and they looked, at what he had made them. It was for them.
A secret place in the snow, surrounded by thinning branches and trees planted in a circle... invited one in to reveal the true delicacies of the soft snow. Here, the shone sun through the twigs and the stars still sparkled on the white floor-bed. The secrets of the snow... is that, how much the man who made the snow really meant when he created this show, and how much, we will probably never know.

Monday 4 January 2010

Music in the wind

Ava sat there and very still.
The wind moved in circles around her and whistled as he reached the heights of the trees.
It chimed in rhythms that only the hierarchy of nature could construct.
'Listen,' she whisphered.
You only have to LISTEN, she thought.
The music was all around and it gathered in momentum and slowed down. It picked up again as the wind skipped across the water and it struck a branch, it danced down the road and beat through the bush. The orchestra was in full motion and the music transcended everything.
Every chord, each note, all of the beats... were there.
The wind in his element and directing the course of the stage.
And someone was laughing, he was really laughing.
Yes He was laughing out loud.
The music belonged to Him.