The mournful sound of the fog horn out in the bay,
A sad sigh for humanity’s failings,
Snow flakes falling,
Frozen tears,
As eerie as they are beautiful.
Like their spirits,
Locked,
Imprisoned,
Hidden within,
Yearning for freedom,
And Truth.
This is the beginning of great change,
Amidst the silence,
Snatched out of the freezing air,
By the snow.
Warm words will come,
To fill the whole of humanity with joy,
And the frozen landscape will thaw.
You will heal this Earth of yours,
And the shoots will rise again from the snow,
Bringing hope to all mankind,
And the recognition of love and the truth always.
Dark winter days can be difficult can't they, but there is something beautiful about the snow. I wrote this poem in January 2010. I was walking to the DART (railway) station in Glenageary, South Dublin and the fog horn sounded from Dublin Bay so clearly - this gave me the first line of the poem as the snow flakes fell down. I had an overwhelming feeling of stillness and a sense of pristine beauty, as well as a feeling that things are changing and that there is a lot of hope for the future because now is the time when the true spirit of humanity will begin to reveal itself.
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