Thursday, January 20, 2011


Snow and ice has worn my world
down to grass flattened
by the weight of my very shoes.
Trees are chopped, truncated, blunt
like that crazy brainstorming
I used to do,
now deafened.
All is bleak until I clear my head
and note the translucence of melting snow
and ponder how white is white
if you can see through it
like an icy waterfall of doubt.
My eyes detect a movement
of grasses blowing
like a thousand hands clapping.
In this frozen abyss they prosper
taking center stage on a field of white
making noise with their movement
like fans cheering or monks gyrating
in praise to the Lord.
They call to me and whisper,
Back to real life, inspired.

Photo and Poem, Copyright 2011 JO Janoski

Monday, January 10, 2011


I feel a rush
and out of place
in this winter-soft paradise.
The air, it balloons with whispers
moist, they sparkle
and drip into my very fiber
wet and expectedly quiet.
The sun pushes rays
across purified snow
like red sleds gliding
producing a line of power strokes,
orange hot yet misleading
when one is surrounded by ice.
I'm not sure whether to feel
ambivalent or blessed.

Copyright 2011 JO Janoski

Sunday, January 02, 2011


Satin streaks reaching
across snowy fields
like hymns hovering
above still white ground.
Can you hear voices,
angels too humble
to show their faces
or murmur their names,
ringing out sweet songs
in adulation
of all magical.

Photo & Poem Copyright 2011 JO Janoski