Frozen Raindrops
My breath becomes visible when I exhale
into the chill of the still, winter air
but, I do not mind the cold.
I hear nothing, but the solemn sound of silence
as I stand in the middle of nowhere, with no one,
looking straight up into a gray sky
and seeing nothing, but a million snowflakes coming toward me.
Tumbling, dancing, drifting, and finding their way to the earth.
No, they are not just frozen raindrops.
Each one is a miniature ice sculpture
intricately carved by the hand of a master artist.
Can it be, within the billions of snowflakes that fall each year,
that no two are ever alike?
While I do not have the answer, I enjoy pondering the question.
I stand perfectly still, as if frozen in time,
as the snow falls down, and sticks onto my hair,
instantly aging me as my golden-brown locks turn white.
Yet, I feel much younger than I am.
I feel like I am inside a snow-globe that has just been shaken.
I can feel them gently landing on my face,
these delicate snowflakes tickle me
as they get caught by my eyelashes.
I just close my eyes and smile.
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