• Sometime I wonder what snow is,
    Perhaps the thing that connects us,
    Or maybe the puzzle everyone tries to solve,
    All I know is what it means,
    And when the flurries of flakes that fly by a window,
    They sing a song to us,
    Their many shapes forming the lyrics.

    A song that touches the heart with warmth,
    As we sit by a fire,
    The embers liking our frozen cheeks,
    Like a dog greeting a long gone master,
    And the mugs in our hands we raise to our lips,
    And sip the slowly cooling chocolate,
    The rug underneath calls to us like a bed.

    The snowflakes then cry to us,
    Their words muffled at first by the wind,
    Then become clear when we strain to hear,
    And the song that they sing,
    Makes us smile at each other,
    Our cheeks rosy and our eyes dancing,
    And the blanket of warmth makes us feel at home.

    Maybe that is what snow is,
    A song that connects us,
    A puzzle that we solve,
    And the answer when made clear,
    Shows us that it is our spirits touching,
    Holding our hands together out in the cold,
    Making us think that the world is all right after all.