| Happy Groundhog Day |
[Feb. 3rd, 2008|09:51 pm]
rejectomorph
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What became of the snow today was this: Almost nothing. Most of the snow that was here this morning is still here tonight. The sun often seemed about to emerge, but rarely managed to penetrate the clouds which, though persistent, precipitated nothing. The snow sat, barely melting, producing only the faintest trickling sound, and that mostly from the streams that issued from the downspouts, which water was mostly the result of heat rising from the attic of our poorly insulated house. I took as much pleasure as I could from the music it made, knowing that it would be charged to some future utility bill. Winter is beginning to feel long, but the back of my mind has the thought that, no, it won't be long at all, and all this snow will melt away taking with it all this time, water under no bridge, trickling away to silence.
Sunday Verse
The Light of Stars
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The night is come, but not too soon,
And sinking silently,
All silently, the little moon
Drops down behind the sky.
There is no light in earth or heaven
But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of night is given
To the red planet Mars.
Is it the tender star of love?
The star of love and dreams?
Oh no! from that blue tent above
A hero's armor gleams.
And earnest thoughts within me rise,
When I behold afar,
Suspended in the evening skies,
The shield of that red star
O star of strength! I see thee stand
And smile upon my pain;
Thou beckondest with thy mailed hand,
And I am strong again.
Within my breast there is no light
But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night
To the red planet Mars.
The star of the unconquered will,
He rises to my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.
And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.
Oh, fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know erelong,
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
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