Today I'm thrilled to have a guest post by Jeannie Prinsen, who blogs at Little House on the Circle. I've come to know Jeannie through the comments section at Tim Fall's blog. Her hopeful thoughts and wise insights are always uplifting. Jeannie is an online writing instructor/tutor at Queen's University. A few days ago I dropped by her place where she shared this poem with me. It struck a chord since very recently I was beckoned by "Narnian whiteness"! I felt her poem would compliment the pictures I took while hiking near my home through Narnia last week. It also inspired a theme for my goals this year: "plunging forth with joy".
I stood before the path into the woods.
Its Narnian whiteness beckoned to me, yet
being loath to spoil the smooth expanse of snow
and knowing night was falling dark and fast,
I turned and said, "Another day will do."
A small decision, hardly thought of till
an early thaw comes, and the snowy trails
turn muddy brown -- and I, with wistfulness,
recall that hushed midwinter moment when
I stood before the path into the woods.
I see it still: the long inverted V
of that straight road into the forest deep,
the fenceposts frosted thick with powered snow.
Bewitching promise of an unwalked trail!
Its Narnian whiteness beckons to me yet.
In retrospect my reasons seem so slight:
excuses not to dare. Had evening come,
my footprints would have easily led me back
(assuming I had wanted to return).
Being loath to spoil the smooth expanse of snow?
Surely the fresh and untouched path desired
that some exploring foot, some questing heart,
would break the surface, plunging forth with joy.
Now, knowing night is falling dark and fast,
I vow to take the path. So what if that
was this year's final snowfall? Then I'll wait
till winter comes again and draws me in
to that charmed world. I'll go, brave-souled and glad,
not turn and say, "Another day will do."
c Jeannie Prinsen 2011
please do not share or reproduce without author permission
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| Proof I was really in Narnia. |
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| More proof. |
