The Snowstorm
Orb of water
clear as truth.
Inside, a single snowman,
born in to an alpen scene.
Centred in this dream,
this crystal prism
so serene.
A lift.
A shake,
to set the world aswirl
awake and round and round the snow it storms
the blizzard swarms in spirals like
angellic bees in heavens holy grip.
The snowman helpless as a ship
within a whirlpools focus.
A scarecrow in the locusts.
Then sudden as a startled deer...
the blizzard stops.
A final snowflake feather drops.
The torrent gone,
again all clear
and silent
still.
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