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The first thing I noticed was the snow and Einstein gazing at what appears to be a church just outside the window. What went through my mind was a poem I wrote about an experience I once had at my Grandfather's house when I was a young boy, gazing out a window at a church just about that far away during a blizzard, watching its occupants depart just after a morning service (btw... I love this photo):

A Winter's Tale

The white world howls,

The white world blinds,

The white world speaks with the church bells tolling,

Whispering whirring in the ear of the unknowing,

The homeward bound the suffering toiling,

Silhouettes wrenched from church doors come pouring,

Black worlds in a white world bent stooped and growing,

The bells echo in the hollows of the house front hall,

Mourners flicker a chiaroscuro on the living room wall,

My time is my own,

My death is not shared,

My knowledge fruitless,

My vanities ensnare,

Grandfather over canvas in colors playing,

Grandmother in dough her hands dance while shaping, 

Grandson enmeshed in presence unfolding,

From discords dissolving into harmonies disclosing,

Three knots of being in a field of lightness,

One knot tightens,

A moment brightens,

The field opens,

A world lies shining.