 |
| Agnes Martin, Untitled #5 1992 |
Dazzlingly bright morning.
As if clouds have come down,
snowflakes gently sat on a hill.
The sky and the hill being one.
They came from morning till late night yesterday.
Small baby snowflakes.
With no sound, lightly.
Little by little and slowly.
They came, came and came again.
Looked like fluffy clouds when they were coming.
And the way they sat down also look like clouds.
As if transparent, flowing clouds, in layers,
tucking in grass and trees.
Without impatience and haste.
Without showing off.
Visible and invisible.
Quietly, doing and doing
Coming down and coming down...
And, lovely look like this.
As small as it is.
As little as it is.
As not knowing as it is.
As unfamiliar as it is.
As high as it is.
As low as it is.
It is good.
Snow appearing is good.
Snow staying is good.
Snow disappearing is good.
See snow. And see the Winter that flowered the snow.
There is nothing to worry about.
