The Imperfect Storm

Tumbling down from the sky
During every chilly storm.
The once blue sky now overruling with white
As they delicately drift to the ground
Each as magnificent as the last.

The tiny flakes scatter
Instantly liquidizing on my warm cheeks,
Clinging to my knitted mittens,
Or gathering in heaps
Concealing the frosted green tips of the grass
That peek out from underneath the clutter.

Their distinctive symmetry
Extending from tip to tip
Makes no two alike.
The six different dimensions
Illuminate the intricate detail at every angle;
The complexity of their designs.

Looking up towards the descending crystals
They fall together like pieces of a puzzle
Leaving me in amazement
How something so miniscule can be so unique;
Proving to be one of the many beautiful things
Mother Nature creates.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback