A Red Windflower In The Snow
When difficulties gather around me
I discover my strength in my fragility
Like a tiny red windflower growing in the snow
Disenchantment is my beauty mark
And shyness is my devoted shield
Invisibility is my enchanting realm
I hide in the meadow of the silent words
Which bloom like flowers on a quiet starry night
My unconsciousness grant me an illusionary joy
I love to lie to myself, becoming a fool
It is challenging to look in the mirror of truth
Because the disenchantment would transfigure my soul
And so I pretend that I don’t have anything to worry about
I laugh and dream about being away
In a metaphysical place
And I stop to think because thinking is corruption
I wonder how it is possible to remain in a blissful stillness
Relishing the silly perfection of a life without the capability of thinking
Then there wouldn’t be anything that would deserve so much attention and devotion
My anxiety and grief would become mere memories of a decadent existence
And I would strive to survive like a tiny red windflower in the snow.
Esther Racah