Winter

The snow was falling so slowly I wondered if it was having a quiet argument with gravity.

At times it almost hung completely still as if time itself had stopped.

My solar panels were thick with snow. Dry light cold snow, what would the word be to describe it.

My power was on briefly and then off again so I went out to sweep the panels.

On it went again, but I realize as I'm writing it's off again.

The sky has been a steady blanket of gray, but the light just dimmed. It is snowing so lightly.

I was wondering if all that makes any sense is just to sit here in the quiet, watching the gentle day.

The world of man seems far away as if it isn't. It only seems to cause pain and harm, the deepest heartache. A constant murmur of argument and uncrossable chasms. 

Here I can hear myself. My pain is welcome without advice or teachings. My joy and pain can fill the room with song.

I am as still as the day.