Look at the snow after a day, where it gathers in the ditches of the city, stained by gasoline, dog urine and the scurrying, hurrying footsteps of the busy masses. Formerly pristine, it tempers the edges of anything it touches, flake by minute flake, it keeps falling until sheer will brings it together and it gathers and covers, like the Mothers who pull the blanket over tired, restless infants... The world rests for a moment, sighing in sleep besides an odd twitch of fingers or toes as dreams float free.
So quickly it turns to slush and mess, plaque in the arterial heart of the streets, something to slog through, slip on and step in...
But instead of seeing the necessary desecration days bring, be amazed at how pure and gorgeous it was for that short time when it was freshly fallen...
That moment just shows what really always happens, each and every moment of our lives, but not so blatantly, the state of endless renewal we are all in...the possibilities...
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