Thursday, January 20, 2005

Innocent Blanket

I've always loved snow. It makes the world seem so peaceful, draping it in a blanket of smooth, beautiful white. The harsh noises are muffled by the wet icy flakes, and the dark, harsh lines of reality are smoothed over and buried with a superficial layer of white.
Lots of things can hide under that innocent blanket.
Maybe things really are as beautiful as they appear. Maybe the world is new again, there's hope for piece, the sharp corners of reality that bite at all that comes too close remaining nothing more than a memory.
Then again, maybe the blanket of white is hiding something. The polution of our society, death and destruction and hate, sharp corners and dark lines and black.
And yet, maybe there's hope either way. The sun reflects brightly off the shiny white surface, the world seems a brighter place, maybe everyone will wake up and realize the beauty that is life, and determine that they need to defend this beauty at any cost.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
Maybe people will stop and realize this, and stop taking this life for granted.



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