|
About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
|
Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
February 2, 2016 at 12:44pm February 2, 2016 at 12:44pm
| |
Prompt: Groundhog Day
Have you ever wished spring would come early or hoped that it would be delayed? What if you were a groundhog? Would you ever predict zero winters?
===================
Today’s headlines say: “Groundhog Day 2016: Punxsutawney Phil sees no shadow, predicts early spring.” I don’t know how correct the weather will prove Phil to be, but for my friends who live in dangerously cold zones, I certainly hope the marmot is right and, shadow or no shadow, another Snowzilla would not be the best thing to take place. On the other hand, there seems to exist conflicting information on the groundhog’s accuracy, but for that, I don’t blame Phil. He is just like any other weatherman who can rarely gloat over a right prediction. Weatherwomen? Being of the same gender, I am holding judgment on them. 
As for me, I love Spring. I could live in Spring forever; however, when I was younger and under the influence of the old Russian writers, possibly surmising that being on the morose side was the high-brow thing, the snob that I was, I preferred autumn and winter. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Since I have realized that mistake, if I were the world’s most famous furry forecaster, I would never go out into the cold, open air in the beginning of February and in Pennsylvania, in the first place. Forget about seeing my shadow; I already know what my silly shadow looks like.
For the same token, I would never predict zero winters either, only because I respect Mother Nature. She knows what she is doing. That the earth has different zones and that we have this circulating, vacuum-cleaning air must be because of a few good reasons. After all, who gives us life and nurtures us despite all our shortcomings and even after we injure her?
|
© Copyright 2024 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|
Comment • View 1 comment 
