It drifts tenderly without a sound
Not knowing where it’s bound
Each crystal created like no others
If only they truly had their druthers

Peaceful as it flutters about
Its everlasting beauty never in doubt
What is it that makes them so fickle?
Sometimes left to just a trickle

Unabated to some unknown destination
When will it find its final cessation?
Tender at times but also harsh
Maybe we can describe it as larsh

Melting too fast can be forlorn
But for another flake to be reborn
Falling from the sky with poise and grace
Eventually finding it’s rightful place

Wonderment abounds in this peaceful scene
Keeping our senses alive and keen
How long it lasts only time will tell
We can only hope it’s more than a spell