In her purple snowsuit, a child kneels in a foot of fresh powder,
carefully shaping a snowball in her purple mittened hands.
See the world through her eyes.
Each snowflake a white dream.
Tucked inside a snow globe,
atop a frozen cotton blanket
neatly placed on the lawn while you were asleep,
embedded with microscopic diamonds
that disappear when you single them out with curious eyes.
It is important that you get the shape of the snowball right,
so take your time
and mold it between your palms like a ball of clay.
It is important
because the snowball can be anything you want it to be,
like the embryo of a snowman.
Ammo to use in a long anticipated battle
or the start of a fortress.
A snow cone, if you can sneak maple syrup from inside.
Branches hang low with their sacred white burden.
The world has become black and white.
And then a cardinal dips into view.
Dashing above a white sea
towards the comfort of an unseen nest,
nearby perhaps, or miles distant.
For a moment
the only color you know is red
and nothing was ever so beautiful.
The world is endless beauty.