In silence they fall
Individual, yet one
To carpet the earth
In snowflake white
And cover the detritus
In purity and peace
The sun shone down from a sapphire sky tinting the world in summer hues. We’d taken the same walk many times before, knew every single detail: every bump; every rut; every shrub, every nuance, or we thought we did? For there, stood proudly at a turn in the way, lay snow!
How could it be that snow could settle so beautifully in an English spring on one tree, and one tree only? Softer than the grass fronds it brushed against us leaving trails of petaled winter. My wife looked to me, I to her, and our camera to the marvel. We called it the snowflake tree, a term of endearment, for so beautiful and pure did it seem.
I don’t know if it will be there the next time we walk that way, nor if it will ever return, but we’ll always have our memories; we’ll always have our photo, and our little piece of winter in the sun.
Every snowflake’s different
Unique in frozen mould
And like the hearts within us
Too delicate to hold.
So beware the steamy season
When passions run so high,
As little hearts may burn up
And that would make us cry.
To get a temperate balance
We move to cove or bay
Where snowflakes often wander
But sea prevents them lay.
It’s there that we may prosper
Beside the chilly blue
A safer place for snowflakes
Like the hearts in me and you.
(Image courtesy Irkaaa on deviantart.com)
I’m drifting through the heavens
Like a snowflake in the sky
My brethren all around me
But not as singular as I.
I don’t know where I’m landing,
And in truth, I do not care,
So long as I’m accompanied
By snowflakes everywhere.
This big old world near whitewashed
By those similar to me,
I like to think in honesty
This place would better be.
But why worry about the melting
When falling takes so long?
I’ll waver on a fresh wind
And meander steadily on.
(Image courtesy LeMex on deviantart.com)
I hear it in the shallows of my dreams
It tantalises as I run constrained by the sloshing waters about me.
I hear it in the falling leaves
The inevitability of a turning globe spiralling about the universe.
I hear it in the cooling north winds
That usher in the fresh, Scandinavian air in all it’s purity.
I hear it in the creaking of my bones
That grating of seizing limbs.
I hear it in my primordial beast
It tells me to gather firewood to keep warm through the coming months.
But the most wondrous thing of all the epitome of my wait is this:
When the first snowflake falls during the night, I won’t hear it at all.
(Fabulous image courtesy Pajunen on deviantart.com)
My little snowflake heart
Is very slowly drifting apart
Coruscating amidst a sea of white
My little heart burns up mid-flight
I don’t know if I’ll reach the sea
Where quench my soul and blend with me
I’ll turn to slush for a second or two
Before my heart elopes in blue
And travels to such future shores
Where maybe I will merge with yours
So forgive my little snowflake life
As I search the world for a snowflake wife
(Image courtesy energy.gov)
I saw her in a December snowstorm
She danced between the softly falling flakes
A vision of winter beauty
An arctic lily playing in the breeze
Like each snowflake, she was singular
I had never seen her like
And as she danced butterflies flew
She had awoken them from slumber
To grace this midwinter day
They drifted up on an icy breeze
Alive before the storm
Only to crystallise and fall back to the floor as frosting
Merging with the snow at her feet
Heedless, she danced on
Twirling, sashaying, pirouetting
As though her whole life had waited for this moment
She mesmerised me with her grace
And in that second I knew I would lose her
This was her time, her day
I should never have intruded upon such pleasure
So, I slipped back through the mistletoe covered bushes
And walked away from her
As my heart frosted and my memories froze in place
Until now, that is
The thaw has come and with it my grief
For I shall never see my snowflake again
(Image courtesy angelitonegro on deviantart.com)