With windstorms littered with snow
Failing visions know not where to go
While the inches accumulate and grow
Man’s spirits follow the temperatures so low
However one flower lingers on
With pristine petals that were never torn
Swaying in bliss, so out of season
Defying logic, repelling reason
Inciting all who see to the hall of mystery
These pupils receiving lectures on life’s inconsistency
But the wise walk out of class, truly see
Sometimes it’s best to let things be
To greet such sights with eyes in awe
And a wordless mouth that’s left ajar