Winter has a hold, a grip of freeze and white
against the bare of trees and twigs in this
season of strength and naked vulnerability.
It’s said that there is no snowflake like another.
Catching them on my tongue, eyes shut in
the imagining of this in the melt and the swallow.
Looking out to the inches of individuality.
Perfect little crystalline star shapes uniquely
layered upon layer like an infinite white cosmos.
Reflecting the story of the midnight storm of galaxies in
their slow spiral swirl like snowflakes in the vast
Great Beyond around us, in the impossible
comprehension that not one of those little perfect
crystals have an identical twin anywhere in Universe.
It is in this moment of knowing how the force of Creation
gives to our Earthly living this season of layered silence
and frigid patiences, in the slow shuffle and shovel through
this freezing austerity made beautiful by millions and
millions and millions of perfect crystal stars frozen
falling and falling from winters’ shifting clouds
that there is the reminder of ‘as above, so below’
of the perfect snow and the perfect incomprehensible idea