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I asked the Snow

What does it mean to stop, oh beautiful snow? I wish for you to teach me, for I happen to not know.

How do you rest so gracefully on branches narrow and in ecstatic dance? May I know faith like that.

To be content to be so moved as the wind seeks to move you...may I know trust like that..... May I be fearless like that.

Your beauty just is, unique and precious. Your intricate design, effortlessly enchanting and only truly seen by a few, holding shape in the masses, creating new designs through connection. May I know beauty like that.

You fall in collective form, like a bird murmuration, it isn't about you. May I know community like that.

Alas, before landing like a blanket, covering the earth. Holding space. May I be a comfort like that.

It's as if you know that underneath the under...there are sprouts taking shape, taking form.....even in the dead of winter....even in you, as the dead of winter. May I, like you, be present to that type of new life. More importantly may I anticipate it.

How do you stop so gracefully, and then with no protest melt away? May I know acceptance like this.

....I hear your voice; the snow now speaks in return with a surprisingly lighthearted tone. "I am not gone; I am in the new life that I protected and nourished from winter to spring. For this was my calling, my part in the all.

May I know oneness like this.




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