In spirals fall the flakes
each bearing letters, forming words
which become crystallized in journey from transcendence to the ground
standing mesmerized I see
the words together forming sheets
as the white fills in the blanks between the blades

blankets soft will shield the green
from pressing winter’s bitter cold
as snowy sentences are formed upon the ground
the words whispered from the sky
no one here could ever speak
for a flake will surely melt upon the tongue

in the dying of the season
crops are taken, leaves have fallen
grace descends to cover every scar that’s left
softening each pointed feature
a blessing spoken from the sky
a poem of mercy slowly covering the earth

now in the rest and in the silence
and every unspoiled page of white
there is a warmth that fills the soul while cold surrounds
in this death a season’s born
and the weary world rejoices
with the advent of this pure white grace