Outbound On The Wings Of Love

The first major snowfall of the year has been and gone, on a day that communist North Korea attacked South Korea. I’m inside my bunker, warm and sheltered from the hostile yet beautiful world out there, a world that’s been painted white tonight by the proper onset of the oncoming winter. It’s beautiful to look at it all, much as it is disheartening and disquieting to hear of North Korea’s aggressions against her neighbour. Hence sprouts the question on my lips, is the sight before me a winter horror show, a winter wonderland (i.e. a wonderful state of affairs) ,a Winter WONDERland (i.e. a state of affairs that leaves plenty for one to wonder / ponder about) or perhaps even a Winter WANDER-land (a platform for the synesthetic wanderings of the tender heart?) I’d like to think it encompasses all notions, or at the very least many notions much like beauty does. My thoughts converge in prose:

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my heart, my reality, my absurdity

Quaint, saintly stately simple like a dove

Complex, intricate, distinctly disparate like causality

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my soul, my destiny, my tranquillity

Faint, daintily decadent, drab like concrete

Intertwined, delicately spun. Soigné like carnation petals

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my passion, my adoration, my incongruity

Impatient, acrimoniously vacant, plain as chess

Imbued, finely stitched. Soft and serene like the falling snow.