© Michele Brown
The sky turns grey the temperature drops, silence fills the air
As children run outside to see if a winter storm is really here.
Each tiny snowflake gently begins to fall, one by one
Designed by God, each unique and shaped to glorify all.
Rhythmically released to fall at the perfect time from space,
Swirling, sparkling, dancing, joining in at their timed pace.
How may frozen snowflakes can cover the ground in white?
A hundred thousand million more each second – seems too trite.
As each small snowflake unites to do its part,
The landscape is changed by the glorious white art.
Waiting for this white thick blanket on the earth to form,
The children with their mittens on begin to roll and adorn.
A snowball form is taking place, some small and others larger still
Creation now within your hands to form it as you will.
Just one small snowflake on its own, wouldn’t be the same
As the multiple snowflakes gathering in one brilliant aim.
I see the people of the world as rare as each snowflake form
When joined together in purpose, the world can be transformed.
The snowballs are a symbol you see
Of each small snowflake formed in unity.

Comments 2

  1. Your writing has inspired me to create thoughts of our current January 2018 weather in Ohio; 🙂 (I love snow…just not the arctic cold)

    Pinholes of Hope
    Shades of gray wrap my sunless world. An arctic spell of frigid temperatures
    locked the door on any chance to diverge the bone chilling cold.
    Solid white skies hang low as my searching soul prays for a glint of warmth.
    My wish to smuggle tropical air
    began to dissolve as the skies turned a gunmetal slate.
    Past pictures of warm, sunny beaches and smiling faces delivered my only hope.
    Thankfully, slate skies warmed the now crunchy snow, as liquid snow struck
    pinholes of hope in my dreary soul.
    Carla J. Barber

    1. Post

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