Snowflakes

Dizzy, dying, walking, free. My soul drifts, like snowflakes, falling, faster, the air I breathe fills my lungs, my lungs . . . The sun hides its weary face, yet the trees are blanketed, safe, secure, nurtured, and sound - is resounding in my head, a boomerang, sonic booms, supernovas, of electric light, the breath of those that created this, have settled upon my eyelashes like confetti on New Years Eve, wide, white, wondrous, and wild. I can hear them landing, upon my face, wet upon my head, hallowed upon my skin, welcome. And I bear witness to this day, this season, my body sings, my feet, electric, my eyes, shining, the dearest of eves. My Lord, I am born, birthed, re-birthed, and my soul, cries out in unison, with the silence of this most holy sky. © Photo and words Susan Marie