Slowly
      Slowly
 Ever so slowly
        It falls
The droplet of rain
            Frozen
        Cold
  Changed out of shape
               Snowflake .

          Slowly it falls
               Twirling
            Spiraling
                 Hovering
        Then dropping
                 Lightly
       Yet not lightly enough
            To resist the pull
                  Of the Earth's core.
                      With it
                      Others fall.

As winter dawns,
United they come,
All at once
Coating the ground
With a perfect layer
Of feathery icing sugar.
Tickling our necks
As they swirl around us
They flutter in the wind                                              
Like graceful butterflies
Thrilled to be free at last.
A simple exterior,
But as we dig deeper
We discover
That on the inside it seems,
Like a spider has woven in each one
The most intricate of patterns
All unique individuals
Different and proud
Like dust from the stars
They glisten in the moonlight
fragile diamonds
That melt at your touch
Thus we can say,
That snowflakes are,
A symbol of purity
Like innocent childlren
To be destroyed by reality.
They put us to sleep,
Singing hushed melodies
As they pass by
Like floating feathers,
Following the wind
In our eyelashes
When we blink
Serene and untouched
Falling from the heavens
God’s children
Blessing the earth.

Walking outside in the winter
A snowflake falls from the sky
And lands in my palm
It slowly melts as snowflakes do
And I start thinking
Each snowflake is spectacular
And different in its own way
But their lives are so short
Maybe humans and snowflakes
Aren't so different after all

Snow is falling outside my window
Snowflake by snowflake
I'm sitting in my room,
Looking out
Wishing I too was a snowflake
Falling and quickly melting away.
I imagine that maybe that is what love feels like
falling, melting, and then its gone.
It's short lived, but beautiful
While it lasts.

"Do you know who the prime minister of Canada is?"

"Hmmm isn't it Tim Horton?"

Sweating, shivering, and shoveling snow,
Looking up with relief as the flakes begin to slow.

Starting our mornings with pancakes drizzled in gooey sweet syrup
And greasy, cheesy, poutine being our last meal we eat up.

We hike up a green lush mountain just to see the view
And shoot down the slopes of silvery snow and feel as if we flew.

The rascally beavers are our vandals, the loons are our song,
The cougars reminding us that we are strong.

We are Canadian, eh?
But would we really want it any other way?