I woke up to the falling snow
    it is gentle and quiet
        as if it holds the breath of the world

hostage with heavy silence
    twirling and swaying, so
        trance-like in the dance

unsure of whether to
    rest crystal droplets upon
       the branches or

to settle and expand into a sea
    of glistening winter white—
        reflecting ribbons of early light that

crash through the pale branches
    of the still sleeping trees
        in the distance

I can see the sparkle of
    their halos standing out against
        a wisp of clouds.