Crystal Clear

Everything is crystal clear when it snows right before spring.
Everything is crystal clear when the big fat stars are out a night.
Nothing is wrong.
Everything is magical.
When it snows, anything great is reachable.
The kind of snow that you know won’t ever stay.
The kind of snow that is replaced with mud the day after.
It’s an icy rock solid snow, a snow that sticks to eyelashes, and melts as soon as it touches the ground.
It’s snow that is best to play sports in; it’s not too cold.
It’s the kind of snow that makes everything crystal clear, everything magical.
When the stars are out it feels like the whole universe belongs to those looking at it.
It feels like the whole world is right there, all of it.
When I look at the stars, the black night, the crisp, paper-thin air, anything and everything great feels possible.
There aren’t any secrets, when I look at the stars, everything is honest, out in the open.
When the stars are out, or when it snows icy snow that doesn’t stay, magic happens.
You can see it, crystal clear.