Virgin snow sparkles in the darkest hour
as stardust dances with celestial power.
Silently it rains upon mother earth
giving witness to such an idyllic birth.
A fawn and doe now break the glaze
like tiny spoons upon crème brulees.
Below Polaris they prance and snort,
for they seem to know the time is short.
For such a night is a rare event,
as blue light above is heaven sent.
Wondrous luminescent tranquility
trumps any earthly poet’s ability.
Now the first rays pierce the frigid night
and Orion’s bow soon fades to light.
White carpet dulls now without the luster
of a nocturnal painter, the starlight duster.
James Nichols 12/29/12