snow on the first day of Spring

It’s the first day of Spring.

I press my nose against the cold glass of the door that leads out into the balcony and stare out into the snow- it’s been an hour or so since it started falling and already tree branches support the weight of Winter as rooftops dress themselves in white.

None of life is the way it should be right now.

I wonder for how much longer will I have to stand here, gazing upon the outside world with a foreign sense of hope that arrived suddenly from I don’t know where. I wonder for how much longer I’ll try and hold on to old ways of living and the need to produce something beautiful and worthwhile out of the silence that envelops the entire planet right now.

Is it Winter or is it Spring?

Sometimes life is just as uncertain as the weather.

Snow

The snow fell like salt,

seasoning the world with the wishes made by those who still believe in wishes

I looked up at the tiny slice of sky visible from my chair

not knowing why or what my heart wanted to say

paralyzed by the indescribable

I anticipated the new to makes all things new

and not merely replace one misery for another

no wishes whispered,

but desires scribbled on a lined piece of paper

memorializing my grand gesture of hope

that good things come to those who fight for them.

The snow stopped falling

But I still felt ice cold in my prison of theories and calculated logic.