Saturday, March 19, 2016

Spring Snow

The curiosity of life is seldom more poetic, rarely more tenuous, and scarcely more improbable than when a fledgling green shoot pokes through a covering of spring snow.
Life is a gamble, at terrible odds. If it were a bet you wouldn’t take it.
Tom Stoppard
The animation prevails however temporarily, however incongruently, in an ever-flowing cycle ― like some sort of Möbius band driven by the energy of the Sun.

Spring snow
by Bob MacNeal
Spring Snow
by Richard Greene

Wet snow coats
twig, branch and bud.
Against the still black street
the waning season
limns its last words
in bold calligraphy.

Life flourishes despite a confluence of improbability of astonishing breadth ― from that which is too tiny to see, to that which is too large to imagine.

Spring snow shoots
by Bob MacNeal
In the upper latitudes of Earth's thin biosphere, a season seems like an exit through a door frame that, at its threshold, becomes an entrance to whatever follows.

Earth is our sacred shelter ― a temporary home for life, the animate, the inanimate, and events inevitable and unlikely.

Yukio Mishima wrote that everything has a quality of sacredness that can defiled by touch.
Once we are even marginally separated from what we can touch, the object is sanctified; it acquires the beauty of the unattainable, the quality of the miraculous. Everything, really, has this quality of sacredness, but we can desecrate it at a touch. How strange man is! His touch defiles and yet he contains the source of miracles.
Yukio Mishima
Relative newcomers, homo sapiens thrive on sacred ground informed by physical and phenomenological evidence that our species is the most destructive life force in the annals of Earth.

Spring snow rock
by Bob MacNeal

It must be obvious... that there is a contradiction in wanting to be perfectly secure in a universe whose very nature is momentariness and fluidity.
Alan Watts