January 11, 2016 by petrujviljoen
Looking north, from the bottom tip of Africa, having to imagine such harsh, brutal weather, strangely familiar, somehow recognised, never seen. A virtual reality over a vast expanse of space and time; surprise at the flower’s survival in such deep, silent, bruising, cold. The renewed respect for nature; the decree: there shall be life. Perceptions of impossibility humbled, softening the tenor.
Air, weave of hedge quelled with snow,
Bloom’s blushing conceit
Although it’s Monday most places in the world, I, living at the southern tip of Africa, get the post a day later, so I’ll link up tomorrow. People in the north who’d like to follow the other poet’s writing, kindly go to http://dversepoets.com/.