Winter's Children

A moment in time that I would like to share with you, to obliterate our differences and take away our pain, for but a crystal minute . . .

 

Winter's Children

 

The beauty of winter,

snowflakes falling rapidly,

around my feet to scatter-

abroad as little children casting,

abundant shining particles,

down over the ground, and giving me,

speaking to me,

through each glistening, spectral arm,

kissing me with blustery arms- with their cold lips-

telling me I should forget the love,

which every small flake teases me with,

flourishes, laps in the breeze, waves me,

further into the reaches of the deep snow-

and I rope along the hills joyous,

until I can find it-

that wonderful, undying place where these children scatter,

until I hear their tune,

as the flakes fall around me from overhead,

and I indulge myself in their swift light,

that opens up before me, in a marked, stark kaleidoscope,

reds, blues, golds, and mineral colors through white masses,

and I am dancing to the tune of the angels,

or what I call God's children, snow-nestled.