Covered yet naked
she falls everywhere in pieces
sometimes dry, other times wet,
some days she comes and clings, some days she just leaves
she looks serene and firm but with every touch
she gets disturbed
life has left footprints all over her,
she is in pain bearing it in silence
I had met her once, years ago,
when in the arms of that old man, in that village
I met my grandpa
His love felt unconditional, so immense, like God’s
He showed her to me through the window
„look” my dear she is here just for you
„It is spring! her time to melt from love and flow,
yet she had come to march in her white dress,
My eyes saw the magic through that old window,
The cotton pieces? The feathers?
Falling from the heaven, she was arriving
she sat and her skirt fell all over the place,
When she came, the village knew she was there
warm on our side of the window
To the tempting look of grandpa which carried the sound of permission
I went out to touch her, a handshake, a kiss, a hug
cold on other side of the window ,
I tenderly touched her ,
she looked gentle and tender but cold, she was cold
regret from the touch,
unexpected,
disappointed,
my hands frozen
I stepped back
I saw the hole and walked back
I had disturbed the perfect surface of the snow
I walked back and my footprints all over her dress
Oh what had I done?
in One step in the other warm side of the window
grandpa watching me,
I was visible, I was seen
In the warm side of the window grandpa’s love was waiting for me
I chose him and I left the snow
only my footprint
To grandpa’s love I said: Oh I destroyed her.
„everybody steps on the snow”,he said,
„it is water, only frozen”
My eyes caught by the diamonds she was wearing
I was humbled,
she was rich,beautiful,majestic
yet chose to bear the footsteps of Loved ones.
Norway 2012-02-05
Remembering my grandpa in Iran and the first time I saw snow and him, what a full day it was. Bless his soul!
