The Falling Snow

Falling snow, gently down you fall,

Softly blows, windy breath and all.

Alone at last, colored skies.

Each itself, where nothing dies.

Land upon my head, fall so gently still,

Angels in a bed. The clouds surreal will.

Pile on up so mighty and so very high,

With the whitest kindest misty sigh.

Bring my tongue to touch and taste,

In clearest, coldest tempting haste.

My spirit floats, absent of lies, and candles burn with fiery eyes.

Down you fall, to cover earth and with you brings a slumbering birth.

With greenest trees in blankets white, and beauty within who have sight.