Snowflakes are cool. I often forget this, but it just takes a good look in between swear fueled shovels of snow to remember that each one is a tiny pointless little masterpiece forged in the chaos of nature by no one for no reason. I don’t know why they look like that or why I would think that that is a cool way to look, but I enjoy the fact that I enjoy them.

            People are cool. I often forget this, but it just take a good look in between swear fueled bouts of road rage to remember that each one is a tiny pointless masterpiece that awoke from dust to feel pain, yell at things, and fear its return to dust. I don’t know why they look that way or why I would think that that is a cool way to look, but I enjoy the fact that I enjoy them.

Everything is cursed into perfect balance. Merry Christmas!

Lyrics:

Brother, now father, and father: grandfather
And grandfather left years ago
Ice clouded grass, waiting winter to pass
Time frozen and stilted in growth


Sister, now mother, and mother: grandmother
And grandmother knew when to go
Rows of streetlights all begin to ignite
Weaving shadows long over the road


Then all life stops
Feather drop
Of tiny flakes
In perfect shape


Soft white felt
Quick to melt
Fleeting Beauty
The symmetry of snow


Student, now teacher, and teacher will teach
All the students to teach and then know
Stalactites of ice draping branches of pine
Under glass marble moons hanging low


Tomorrow’s today and today: yesterday
And yesterday is so long ago
The next year will pass once again in a flash
And the infants to grandparents grow


Then all life stops
Feather drop
Of tiny flakes
In perfect shape


As they fell,
Emanuel!
A god of grace
I saw its face
My grandma died
My niece arrived
Fleeting Beauty
The symmetry of snow