Winter Poems



pure snowflakes
all perfect in form
drift down from the sky
to cover the imperfect

(1. version)

pure snowflakes
all perfect in form
each one so perfect in form
they come down together,
but each separately you see
each one different
all floating free
drift down from the sky
the many become one
yet each one alone
alone in its fun
till they land gently
each one in turn
to land on the place
where we get as we earn
to cover the imperfect
or to veil over the good
each without judgement
in dale, vale or wood
till all difference is gone
and all are cloaked in new brightness
despite covering all cold



Micha Fire; December 2007

Christmas is coming,
Everyone is running
From one place to the other
And no one seems to bother.

Before at mother’s times
They could hear the angels’ chimes.
Where is it all gone?
The memory is still strong.

The snow would slowly fall;
All people big and small
Are outside having fun.
Where has it all gone?

Baking cookies with mother
Packing parcels with father
Singing carols on the street;
Those times were so sweet.

Christmas is coming
Everyone is running
All are busy with their buying;
Makes me feel like crying.

I want the old times back;
With no thought of lack,
With joy in abundance
As it had been once.

So if from the cycle I break free
All the little wonders I can see;
Children’s eyes still shine so strong
As they hear the angels’ song.

Not everything has gone.
It is easy to be done:
Just stop your running
And you know - Christmas is coming.

Micha Fire; December 2008