Memory of snow
Winterfun and much more in this issue #178 of your weekly poetry shot
The snow's just
a fond memory now
of picturesque, winter-wonderland
images, crackling steps and
joyful play.
Flakes of frozen water fall to the ground, colouring the world white, and suddenly we all become very playful. The kids are building snowmen and igloos and diving into snowball wars with their peers and elders. We play, we slide, we glide, we are happy. Some even look at the (smaller) waterways to see if maybe, just maybe, that layer of ice is thick enough to stand on.
Snow, winter, there’s a lot of joy in that. And then… the temperature rises and it all disappears like snow in the sun.
No matter what: stay playful.
Poésie de la vie
As athletes were flocking to the city where the Winter Olympics of 2014 were held, I was in Finland for a workshop. One day, at breakfast, we were talking about these Olympics, and I told the international group that the Dutch speed skaters were considering going home before the Games had even started. Normally, they excel at this discipline, as they ended up doing that year as well, taking 23 of the 36 medals available, with 4 clean sweeps (taking gold, silver and bronze). Still, just before the start of the Games, they were talking about returning to The Netherlands. There was a cold snap back home. One that lasted for a couple of days, and was forecasted to maybe even last for a few more. When that happens, the ice thickens on the canals and lakes of The Netherlands, and people go skating-mad. After a few days, all ponds and canals that have some ice on it will be packed with Dutch people on skates. If the freezing keeps up for a few days longer, the eyes turn North towards the Friesland province. Suddenly, the Ice Master of the Elfsteden (Eleven Cities) Committee is the only person that matters. Will the ice be thick enough for the race of races? Will this year be the year with the next Elfstedentocht? We were all watching, talking, getting jittery. Our speed skaters declared that if that race was on, they would skip the Olympics.
Alas, the ice did not grow thick enough, and the race of races would not be held. With the Dutch taking the aforementioned Olympic medals. Leaving the race of 1997, of which you can see the finish in the clip above, being the last one held. And if you watch that clip, take note that this race is 200 kilometres long, on natural ice only.
Poetry elsewhere
What do you see when you look around you? How do you recognise you are home? Are you looking for those landmarks or the people? This poem by
is a wonderful description of a neighbourhood. It both makes me feel at home and filled with wanderlust. Enjoy Return:An ode to an orange. Ibraheem Leone not only writes wonderful poetry, but his reciting is amazing as well. This poem, Forbidden Fruit, is one to listen to, with your eyes closed, as Ibraheem reads his mesmerizing poem to you.
We’re well underway in 2024 now, but what will this year bring us? What do you want it to bring? With his usual calmness and a beautifully powerful use of repetition in this one,
ponders what he wants to leave behind in the old year, and find in the new year. Let yourself be overwhelmed by Leaving It All Behind:
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Really enjoyed that retelling of the 2014 ice skating and watching the 1997 race. Amazing.