I believe in my dreams and in building something today regardless of what tomorrow may bring, so poetry and God helped me to see it this way.
New Year’s Eve 2006, truly surprised me when the snow descended from the sky like glitter and congregated on the ground to form hills that would eventually melt with the sun. The winter arrived decorating the landscape into color white, and its cold air only few gladly inhaled it. For a minute I paused to take a notice of the purity the snow portrayed on the sinful land of man.
Delightfully I covered myself with layers of clothing and departed the warmth of my home in order to embrace the snow. I walked outside and exposed my entire face to the sky, and felt the chilly sensation of love. The contact was immense. I was an attentive and religious woman, so this encounter with the snow was my meeting with God. I felt the affection and dwelled on this wonderful moment. I widened my arms like a bird and permitted my heart to be sentimental and inspired. I pictured myself as the man who had depended on an oxygen tank, but fought his way to be relieved from such misery and was able to finally breathe.
I played jovially and acted as a craftsman. The snow was my clay that would be molded into the most well known sculpture of winter, the snowman. The snowflakes planted kisses on my face and I adored it. I occupied myself with sole enchantment. Thoughts of wisdom and peacefulness lingered in my head, but time was possessed by a rapid travel, and I wished like a child for it not to pass. I took a picture in my mind of this event. The photograph was of a woman who had been encapsulated in a globe of grief the entire year, and now it was her chance to propose herself with a new resolution.
My own composed poetry consoled and silenced my own crying heart. Frankly, latent I kept my poetry, not because I considered it amateur, but simply for fear of being understood by society as for who I truly was; a sentimentalist. I desired to be like the ocean, protective of its treasures, because once your treasures are uncovered then they are exposed like a naked body to be inspected, and sold to auction. But, finally……
I have arrived to my final rest.
This dream is an infinite paradise,
A destination I yearned for everyday.
All this white color outside metaphorically purified my soul and heart. A new year’s resolution I dared to imagine. Since I believe in sharing my monetary treasures with the poor, likewise, now I believe in moving on and sharing the treasures of my heart with the world, my poetry.
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