The earth sleeps
under the snow
and while It’s resting
the sun goes out on the horizon
and immediately
the darkness comes.
The frost wraps
everything
and leaves no escape,
but a small candle lights
warm
the world,
which is waiting for spring.
Meanwhile
We have to rest
under the falling snow.
Poem (C): Me
“Study on Jakub Schikaneder” (C): Michael Handt
“Noël en Amérique” (C): Alfons Maria Mucha
“Birches in Winter” (C): Maxfield Parrish
“Silent Night” (C): Viggo Johansen
oldernow:
love these - spent a chunk of today looking at still lifes from the 17th century (i do archving and sometimes weird stuff comes up that i have to research)