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Little Separate Things

Snow gently fluttering
down, a feathery white
monochromatic veil, flickering
over everything, hushing
self important itineraries to silence
steady and measured, unhurried,
velvety soft, poised but persisting
in its blanketing procession,
little, inconsequential, separate things
accumulating, culminating
in a sacred stand still
for each blessing
is like a single frozen flake
unique and innumerable,
crystalized and floating,
deftly descending on us
necessarily melting
and watering deeply
a slushy spring
of soul’s sprouting.

Polly Castor
2/12/17

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