Watching an Icicle

Sitting and watching an icicle drip,
When seen through a fresh pair of eyes,
Is how it must feel to be out on a ship
When you’ve only tried land on for size.

For we, who’ve seen icicles time and again,
Rarely realize how magic they are.
Their melting’s been witnessed each wintertime when
They descend from each roof, tree or car.

But a warm-climate refugee, newly arrived
Or a baby who’s new to the mix,
Might feel that up ‘til now they’ve been rather deprived,
Missing Nature play one of her tricks.

‘Cause no matter how massive an icicle is,
There is one thing that’s perfectly clear –
When the sunshine comes out and starts doing its biz,
Then that icicle will disappear.

To the novice, it seems like a magical spell,
Just to watch all the drips and the melt;
So by joining one, I see it that way as well
And remember the way it first felt.