Nowhere there is silence such as silver
spilling from the full cold moon.
Nowhere there’s an essence quite as lucid
as the freezing glow of moonlit snow.
Nowhere am I closer to my father’s voice
than when I ski across a lake at night.
Linked to toads writing for Toni.
December 22, 2018
Beautiful! Thank you for this beyond lovely poem
It is based on a true memory of skiing with my father on moonlit snow.
What a wonderful memory this is.
This is so poignant, Bjorn. I love the image of silver
‘spilling from the full cold moon.’
Right to the point of this moon, Bjorn, and I felt it deeply.
This definitely conveys the image of the Full Cold Moon. I watched it rise in the heat of summer.. like a hot air balloon. Not quite the same experience.
We chose the same moon – we must have both been looking at it at the same time! I love the opening lines, Björn, with their spilling silver silence, and the idea of being closer to your father’s voice while skiing on moonlit snow.
I’m trying to decide whether silence is good or bad — whether your dad’s silence was good or bad, and whether feeling his presence would be good or bad.
It is like a whispered secret! I love it.
Your poem brought me to memories of moonlit, snow filled night walks with my father. Thank you
Beautiful words evoking such strong memories. The image is sublime!
Why is there never a love button. Tis a splendid memory.