Snowfall

The snow falls quietly:
white flakes
softly floating to the ground,
like the passage
of the seconds,
the minutes,
the days
that silently mark
our brief sojourn.

Like the snow,
the accumulation of time
ultimately forms
a blanket,
a shroud:
a transient monument
to the fleeting blaze
that is our lives.

If we examine each flake,
each precious minute,
slowly we comprehend
a minute portion
of the magnificent complexity,
the glowing splendour,
the magical triumph,
the living tapestry
of our passing Season.