Drip drip drip The sound breaks The silence of the room Where I begin My day I Meditate And watch a Drop of water run Down The rippled face of an icicle And drop I put on my boots And stand on the porch The Drip drip drip Has turned to a constant patter Like that of a forest After a hard rain Is the sound Of ice and snow Melting off branches And dripping from eaves
We’re finishing up a nice bout of snow in Seattle. It started last weekend, and has continued off and on. Yesterday we were even graced with a nice bit of ice on top of all the snow. When I woke this morning and went in to do meditate and do my yoga, I heard the ice melting off of icicles hanging from our eaves, and listened to the rate of the melting and dripping increase.