Chimes in the Night

Last night I experienced something that I never before had.  As I stepped out into the drive during the ice storm, I listened while icy, crackling music played in the trees above. The eeriness increased as the wind caused the music to circle the entire house while veiled in the darkness of night. It was beautiful. As I looked at the house, there was the only light; golden light streaming out through the windows. It was such an enjoyable few minutes. I attempt to write a prose about it here:


Chimes In the Night

A clattering in the giant maples and poplars overhead.
Ice falls from the blackness of sky this night.
As the winds begin in the south
Icy fingers touch each other, gently at first, creating chimes in the night.

I whirl, peering into black nothingness as
shiver of clacking branches circles to the east then north and west;
Chiming out their frozen, evening music.

Settled in the belly of a clearing of wood,
the tiny house stands, dwarfed by these towering musicians.
Like a large candled lantern, the light
tumbles from its portals;
creating a shining, golden carpet of welcome.

I stand for a time, listening to the icicles
forming and thickening on the twigs above me.
A rush of wind starts the symphony anew.

Frozen droplets rain down upon my head and face;
A shudder of chill runs through my core;

The streaming carpet welcomes me back
to the cozy lantern of what we call
Home.