Still Inside*

Twelve inches of snow fell throughout the night
Creating a white blanket by morning
I lie in bed under my comforter.
Peace.
I direct my thoughts inwards and feel my own kindness.

Outside, shoveling is meditation.
Pushing.
Lifting.
Snow slides off the aluminum shovel like grains of sand
Falling from my plastic scoop in my childhood sandbox.
I am as hot inside my snow pants, down jacket and gloves
As I was then in my tank top and shorts.

Snow three feet high lines the driveway now
And I am reminded of being on my back in my snowsuit
Kicking tunnels into similar snow piles as a kid
Playing in homemade forts until my cheeks turned red.

My cheeks are the same red today.
Though I won't go sledding or build a fort
As I might have 35 years ago.
Instead, as I lift another full shovel,
I smile at the younger me.
Grateful that her energy and playful spirit
Are still inside.

*This poem came to me February 13, 2007 and I post it today in celebration of the new year's first accumulation of snow.