Cold and gray the afternoon turned to night.
The blowing snow flurries changed to big gentle wet flakes,
and by morning everything was covered in white.
It was easy to see that mother nature makes no mistakes.

The quietness that comes with fresh snow
stretches across the valley and past the four-lane.
Looking down the mountain side at the houses below,
in this moment, the purpose for life seems so plain.

And just as the snow covers us like a blanket,
we weave the fabric of life into a living quilt,
assigning each one a value, and we then rank it.
All the time, believing to the end, the story we have built.

But one day the story, like the snow on everything we see,
begins to melt, and the forms, however we may view them, change.
And we begin to understand that a tree is just a tree.
With this understanding the world begins slowly, to rearrange.

The blanket of snow is a reminder of the true nature of being
and the quietness brings to our busy minds a short reprieve.
This brief period of quietness channels a path to foreseeing.
And, for a moment, the past is shed like leaves from the barren trees.

The process of getting closer to ourselves inches forward
each day, each moment, each breath constantly changing.
Often they create situations that are in the moment, awkward,
while everything around us, no matter how stable, is rearranging.