Nieninque

White.

I look out my window - all I see is white,
and all I can do is smile.
My cheeks upturn, my eyes brighten,
and my mind flashes.

Images of open mouths catching falling diamonds,
racing through blanket covered rocks,
trying to get away from loving arms,
walking home as white lights tumble from
dark skies.

This is my heaven.
Sweaters & scarf, mittens & muffs.
Hot chocolate & fireplaces, saunas & steam,
cuddly sofas and heated seats.

This is paradise.
The sound of new footsteps, an
unhideable trail small houses and
little men on every front lawn.
Houses sparkle in the night,
it falls so early.

This is my time.
No one is unhappy,
the sounds are all songs -
everything is golden white.
As living things fall to sleep
I am wakened to a new life,
a life of crackles and diamonds,
of hot mugs under a warm blanket,
hand holding through wool,
of soft kisses in a softer snowfall.

This is my dream - this is my world.

Gray

The sky is bleak,
the clouds piles upon piles of gray.
A warm breeze blows,
but I hardly feel it.

I watch the people hurry,
scurrying from one place to another,
fearful of the sun that
threatens to shine through the
darkening canopy above.
I see this all - life passes my eyes,
trees outside a train.
I see it all and I cannot help but smile.
My soul dances with the
leaves on the trees,
our temperament shifting alike.

I feel a sunset,
brilliant yet peaceful,
awe-inspiring yet grave.
This dreary world holds me not.
It cannot contain the magnitude
of my expression, the
otherworldly weightiness of
my melancholy - and yet
all is sum by the joy that
whispers through the speckled
sky, faint echoes of hope,
assurances of life,
worthy life.

These gray clouds cover not my end -
they are the shroud of my beginning.