Snow Dies and Turns to Tears

It is morning and the light illuminates
Bitter cold within my bones;
Snow falling across my face.
Wind blows away illusions of summer flowers
Now resting beside the path.

Individual snowflakes die
As they touch my open hand—
Perhaps filled with joy or
Unbearable pain
As they enter the stream, river,
Ocean of mystery that is death….
Life beyond the stop sign
At the end of the road.
When the clouds disperse,
Will they have cleansed themselves,
Wiped away all pain?
Will clarity return or is clarity
Like the summer flowers I see:
Illusion, desire, hope, prayer?

For now, I learn how snow is
Crucified as it touches flesh,
Turns to tears upon my cheek….
Water dying into air,
Beginning an excursion
Into a garden I cannot see.


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