Sublimity in Snowfall

There is a sound that only the snow makes.
It is quiet, almost silent
But if you listen, you can breathe it in,
Absorb the dampened air through your skinpores.
The snow is cleansing.
Not because of its blanketing whiteness but because of the cold that shakes you.
The consciousness of flakes gathered into one; you can hear them chatter,
“Come here. Come stick to me.”

A single snowflake is almost nothing,
Many simply melt on tongues.
Even these flakes have a purpose—they guide a smile, create a shine.
Just take a look at all the snow mounds, the caps of mountains, the north and southern poles—
Single snowflakes had to land there, had to gather.
Single flakes spoke to each other, “Hey there, you can come stick with me.”
Suddenly single is septillion,
a septillion become one.
Suddenly a single snowflake is most sublime.

I see the sun on your back

I was walking last week in the snow, stomping around the mounds and ice, wearing my great coat (a Civil War replica) for warmth. The wind was in pure form that evening, chilling the air by at least ten degrees. As I pulled the cape of my coat over my head and tugged the edges tight about my face, I was reminded of the fable of the north wind and the sun. In this story the wind and the sun both attempt to make a man take off his coat. The harder the wind blew, the firmer the man's grip on his coat, while the sun only had to beam in order to get his way.

The moral of course is through gentleness, one will be able to achieve what they want, especially when it comes to getting others to act. A good lesson, I suppose, on just how one should interact with people, but what about the man? During my walk I kept seeing myself in his shoes, being beaten down by the harsh north wind and I wondered, "When is my sun going to come?"

Now coming from someone like me, it sounds like a sad question. A loaded question full of wistfulness, longing and despair. But as I gazed upon the snow drifts, clutching at my hooded cape, I was not begging. I knew my time would come, like the man in the story. For the moment, I simply had to keep holding on, despite the rough hands of the gales life was blowing towards me.