Without Meaning

The fog has frozen, lining each tiny twig with ice,
At times that is all you need to know.
To let go of your need for meaning or certainty,
to release your metaphoric mind, and be glad
of a God so profligate in his artistry
that he tosses it down each day for the peasants.

About this poem

Most of my poems have meaning, morals, stories. But sometimes, I just have to stop and wonder at all the good things I am surrounded by.

The picture was taken not far from my home in West Pawlet, VT. You may buy prints here.

Tom