Snow falls down like liquid angels frozen
in contemplation of the divine gaze;
Look on look, a face-off of the chosen
with their own Source, its loving eyes ablaze:
In an instant, each moment is infinite,
ripe with the fullness of an endless now;
a panorama of light and from the dark pit
of unrestrained vision, the endless glow:
But the snow, it still falls as soft as sky
on a placid winter morning, the sun
behind a sheet of clouds, as people try
to make sense of fates; the past is gone:
And the present is live in each snowflake
that quivers towards Earth; each crystal will break.