Inside the Snow, First Falling

Inside the Snow, First Falling

*

In the white of unwrapped heaven’s

gift to souls faint for peace, unknowingly –

until they see their windowed longing

in the lightness of snow, its fast-slow

pace of grace fallen, pieced, mute

and piecemeal as a face’s flakes

in aged days and dry winter, an

ageless ache suspends, until invited

into dance by the unknown wind

(a known presence in the endless sky

– grey see – of mystery), one who woos

not to win, but to remember, to remind,

so swirls in whirled worlds of wonder –

winters past and yet unknown,

*

and wordless, naturally, like all true

love, like unknown marriage known

o’er and o’er as the years go round

and round in watched wakefulness

that wants stillness, in want of love’s

real awaking and making best and

beautiful the days bright with either

sun or snow, and a wedding’s glow,

long after summer’s sung its piece

and gone to sleep, leaving a lullaby –

echoes of heaven’d souls – in its place,

heard in a child’s laughter, in

enjoyment of a presence, known and unknown,

like snow, and in the music one soul plays.