My wife avowed, “Beyond the pane,
A snowstorm rages, but with flame.”
A spectacle, both odd and grand,
A marvel, formed by nature’s hand.
Snowflakes, like petals, gently fall,
Descending from the heavens’ pall.
Yet tongues of fire, so close beside,
Dance with a grace, like liquid tide.
May’s verdant hour is not for snow,
Nor flaming omens, blazing glow.
Yet lo, they’re here, on left and right,
Messengers of a mystic night.
As if the heavens and the earth,
In mirth, combined Spring’s gentle birth
With Autumn’s flame, a strange embrace,
Whеrе firе frееzеs, snоw finds grасе.
These elemental forces bound,
In symphony of wonder profound.
The city stands, in awe, perplexed,
To unravel the enigmatic weave it has cast.
And as we watch, from windowed sight,
We gaze upon this heavenly flight.
An enigmatic puzzle, yet divine,
Of chaos, yet of a design.
My wife observed, “Beyond the pane,
A snowstorm rages, but with flame.”
And let it be a timeless tale,
A whimsy sent, a wondrous veil.
We’ll hold unto the hope it brings,
That peace will soothe, and love will sing.
And through the storm, we’ll find our way,
With faith and hope, to guide our sway.
May 8, 2024
The poem was written when a downpour raged on a May day, snow fell, and everything around was mixed up.
The poem is dedicated to his beloved wife, Victoria.
The original version of the poem was written in Russian. You can read it at the following link:
http://stihi.ru/2024/05/08/5612
Sincerely yours,
Poet, Psychotherapist, Educator
Evgeny Alexandrovich Sedov