God is sweeping off the clouds, and it’s falling on my face.
Calmly, gently, whistling swirls of white.
The air is crisp and sweet as a delightful treat.
The pine trees gradually become cloaked in this simple joy of winter.
My heart slows as it swoops down upon every inch of the ground.
It sings like a melody of angels.
The world is rested under a sheet of white.
This is snow.
Calmly, gently, whistling swirls of white.
The air is crisp and sweet as a delightful treat.
The pine trees gradually become cloaked in this simple joy of winter.
My heart slows as it swoops down upon every inch of the ground.
It sings like a melody of angels.
The world is rested under a sheet of white.
This is snow.
Saysh
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