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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