Swirling snowflakes fall without a sound,
Blanketing the ground in folds of white.
Sitting here I watch as patterns form:
Fleeting moments captured by my sight.
Morning comes: the rising of the sun
Illuminates the scene, clear and bright.
Wrap up warm in winter coat and hat,
And step out on this stage, set by night.
Early birds have left the only tracks,
Out despite the season’s frosty bite.
Rambling over heath, mind open wide,
Calm comes streaming in upon the light.
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I'm breathing in the peace and happiness your poem gave me this morning. I think I'll sit here and keep it in my mind and meditate on it for a while.
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Hi Bird. Thank you so much for your comment – you've made me very happy. We've not had snow here yet this winter but I was woolgathering and reflecting on the quiet that accompanies falling snow and the quality of sunlight on fresh snow.
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