Silent, unexpected ripples As the first flakes softly alight on the lake, A crisp inhale with eyes closed Followed by a joyous vaporization of cloud. When vision flutters back into focus, A spectacle ever-more lovely than the last. The muffled crunching around the trail, near-muted chattering of chipmunks, windy flurries whistling then growing placid, the softened screech of a hawk subdued now to an awed whisper - Mounting and falling like a Debussy. Clearer and more humbly triumphant than cathedral bells.
This suite - this bright panorama Shows me to the brink of an elation within And brushes my crystalline spirit. It sings and I overflow - Light pours drop by rapturous drop From each eye.
10.9.17 Inktober Prompt: Screech Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.