Silence on Saturday Morning in Five Parts

1.

So early this silent Saturday morning frozen to the ground 

brilliant sun dares any of us 

to poke our noses outside 

to feel the cold 

that descends on us,

blocks our breath, 

rims our eyelids with frost.

Do we dare?

And why not?

~~~~~

2.

I actually just saw a jogger 

on a sidewalk too far away to see 

jogging for exercise? or 

running ahead of the cold? 

But in this country of winter living 

I witness skiing, sledding, snow shoeing - and jogging 

only shuddered at by 

those choosing warmer climes

as I sit in my warm kitchen

my cat curled up in his cosy chair

with the tick of the clock 

the hum and blast of the furnace 

my warm companions

If I am one to brave the outside

it will not be until this afternoon

when I have felt the warmth and safety of home

confident that I have soup hot and thick for my insides ~

blankets and fireplace (even if it is electric)

to replace the mind numbing, deadly, silent cold. 

~~~~~

3.

Silence only broken by the tick of the clock ~

words, frozen, break off on the page like snapping icicles

my hand hesitates ~

waiting for the next word ~

or thought 

to fall 

silently 

on the page

A writer’s block of ice flows 

in chunks through my veins

bumping up against the icy walls of my home.

'til the furnace comes on 

warming my insides and outsides

so my pen opens the door 

to all these wandering thoughts.

Keeping warm and creative 

a monumental task

yet the sun rises everyday as if there were no problems,

baring itself to the too cold, frigid, cloudless sky

burning with its own distant fire 

blessing us with its light

Silence on Saturday lets me think 

and work out my words and 

restore action to pen and paper

~~~~~

4.

Silence hung frozen in air so brittle

with cold that it catches in your throat

Rabbits vanish into hidden shelters ~

my cat? ~ not even a sniff at the back door

~~~~~

5.

Cars and trucks glitter with ice dust 

settled on them while they slept to

become as one with sidewalks and roads

until one brave soul bundled and swathed 

in heavy warm clothes steps into the frigid air

work beckoning ~ bravery tweaked by need ~

the paycheque pushes people into the ice air ~ 

or has there been a family emergency?

Awake and warmed

each car that passes

a nucleus of warm insides ~ 

as long as heaters are working ~

batteries dead or dying 

only freeze a vehicle to the ground 

until neighbours help neighbours 

with the winter of cold and frozen.

“Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?”

~ Lawrence Durrell, Justine