Snow
Snow is falling,
Falling down quickly and covering the road,
The road I need to get home.
To get home to where you lay,
Laying waiting for me to lie in your arms to tell you about my day.
My day has been rough, and all I want to do is come home.
Come home to where you are at once.
Once the snow lightens up, I’ll be on my way,
On my way to see you to hear about your day
Today the snow decided to fall hard,
Hard enough to keep me at a distance.
No distance will ever keep me too far away
Away I’ll stay waiting for the snow to lighten up, then I’ll be on my way.
On my way to keep you warm on this very cold day

The white banks have risen high.
The smoky powder fills the sky.

Blooms of consciousness are frozen still.
Consequences of dying on that hill.

Time slips, blurs, no longer stirs.
As thoughts dim, and pain confers.

Darkness consumes the glistening tomb.
Life gives in to the doom and gloom.

The cold flakes hit my face

Reminding me of my lasting days

For just like the snow, I too am just a simple spec

Falling down a winding path

What will happen to that spec?

Will a dog jump up and grab a snack?

Or perhaps it will simply fall down a beaten path

Full of misery and nothing worth to retrospect

And yet the flakes continues down in a graceful dance

even as it descends,

Closer and closer to that all-consuming ground

Because even though all snow will fall

It’s a miracle that it was airborne at all.

⠀⠀1
snow spills
like stars shredding onto soil.
suddenly I’m sinking,
& the world weighs like a wound
wrapped in the white, wet wool of winter;

      2
autumn appears in amber, already
pulling out my pieces—
again, it aches;

      3
death dawns in darkness
& I dance, drenched of the desire
to dream—breathing and breaking
bonded before, now they birth
a boundless burden;

     4
night
nests its nails into my neck;
& I’m bone-broken, body-bloodied,
sprawling scarlet across my skin;

     5
eclipsing with you,
I lose my light, looking for love,
& all of my colors cease to conceive;

     6
sun sits
on the saffron spine of summer
but the melancholy doesn’t melt away,
dreams do;

     7
skies spout
my sorrow in spring—
garnished with green grounds, I grieve.

One night the wind walked
amid the silvery clouds
singing in choir with the stars
swaying the trees and marking
the love's path in the lunar gardens.

Transparent terrestrial plains
called the mountains to sing
while the snow slid larghetto
to trace the glazing route with love's
cabalistic path till the lunar gardens.

Last Winter,
the coldest place to be
was perched upon that balcony,
testing the frigid air.
You could find me overlooking there.
Watching my breath linger, then fade,
the figures of people walking away.
Expanding with strides unbroken,
their anachronistic spots of motion.
Fervent still-lives swapping each second,
flashing, their haystack destinies beckon.
Each step they continue, each foot they shrink,
"tiny infinities" I like to think.
Again, my old listless demon calls,
and the day's porcelain sky begins its fall.
A thin coat, a chimeric chair,
you could find me overlooking there.
With hands loafing, catching snow,
I'm pretending I'm not below.