I went out at night, into the woods alone with glee. The deep new snow I just had to see. The trees who have been my friends all along, have now been newly decorated for me to discover. The woods were eerily quiet with the deep and soft cover. The world was either white or it was black. There was no color. The reflective pure white turning night into ghostly day. It was the most connected feeling. Is this what it’s like to pray? Or perhaps poetry would be the best thing. It even crossed my mind as to whether I should sing. But none of these things did I feel could compete. So all that was heard was the snow crunching under my feet. I thought ‘how majestic this universe must be, to have such beautiful settings, and to have me, to witness it, and be filled with such a sense of aw’. To me, at that moment, the world had no flaw.
I feel silly. I have found nothing new. There have been better poems portraying these feelings. There have been quite a few. But it occurs to me that every good person should have a sense of aw. We humans like to find something to appreciate that’s bigger and more beautiful than we are. We have been doing this for as long as we have noticed a star.