I like it when it snows.
This morning it was a dull and rainy day
with the flurries falling softly all around
everything looks brighter.
Trees with no leaves are now coated in icing sugar snowflakes.
Cold pavement and dead grass lie cozy under a fluffy white blanket, tightly weaved
one perfect flake at a time.
Each flake is unique as it forms cotton ball tufts atop barren bushes once
decorated with brilliant floral bouquets.
Gaia, my guide, is asking me to join her amidst her pure and ever-changing art,
ready to vanish at any moment.
“Come out and play”, she calls.
“Come and see the perfection of my work.
Witness the impermanence of it all.”
“Breathe it in. It is yours to do what you want with.”
“It is yours.”
“I made it for you.”
a poem by pippa