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Snowflakes
In spite of it all
Beauty persists,
The snowflakes
That started as ice
Falling before
They reach rain,
Will their turning
To water
In a future sun
Be the same as
As arriving as drops,
Is it like us,
Most arriving
Raw and rough
Not reaching bliss,
Falling short
Of sainthood,
Is the transition
The same,
To water, to vapour,
And who knows
What after.
Stephen Nesbitt © .
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