Carving a Snowflake

Scissors and folded paper

and no design

or pattern to direct my mind;

no way to guide myself from wrong

when right itself is undefined.

Freedom is a terrifying place

when you are young

in a world of uncompromising certainties.

Scissors and folded paper 

an invitation to random expression,

to imagine and create.

Hands shaking with the fear,

palms sweaty with the tension,

struggling through the motions,

stabbing into the rigid brick of paper,

hacking a stunted, twisted, crude, ungodly mess.

Expression is a terrifying act

when you are young

in a world of deep conviction.

Scissors and folded paper

an exhortation to reveal our work

and, in revealing, to awaken to perfection

in individual design and collective pattern.

What horror! Ice grips the heart:

this fraud will be exposed.

Clenched within my over heated fist,

the snowflake crushed and melted to a knot

fell silently beneath my feet

in time for me to claim it’s loss.

Exposure is a terrifying thought

when you are young

in a world of righteous judgement.

Scissors and folded paper

and no demands but mine,

wait for some chosen moment without design

when, with one awful, simple slice,

I declare my freedom.

 © Philip Knight 2018