The sky gave way to the wintry rays
like fresh linen powder.
The cloud-covered sun reflects off the snow
To fill my room with a milky white glow.
Notice the voices of neighbors
Who’ve been shut in all year,
And join in their laughter.
Disrupt the pristine powder
With your boot tracks  
While patterns of intricate snowflakes fall,
To join in towering mounds of ice.
Here one day, then not.
The cycle will return,
When the birds can’t chirp,
And the sky gives way again.  
But until then,
Listen to the way the wind blows
And study how the snow falls.
Turn off the noises you’ll hear tomorrow,
And bask in the day we have received.