What is the lesson of a snowflake?
this fragile, frozen traveler
that wends a path from heaven to my feet.
Is its flight a happenstance?
Or might it be a messenger,
an envoy sent to teach me some eternal
Perhaps it comes to teach me aught of beauty.
To draw me into reverent contemplation —
a frozen moment of breath-catching awe —
crystallized in tiny spires of ice
that catch and play with quiet winter light.
Such power woven through so delicate an incarnation.
Or else, it might be teaching me of structure.
Of how the rules of physics
and molecular arrangement
can build with purpose, even in most frivolous display.
in the wild chaos of a grey and cloudy sky
can even mighty nature tame
for my soul’s solace and delight.
But what of the most minuscule of flakes?
The germ or column bare of decorative arms?
The insubstantial chip of ice that barely merits notice
or inclusion in the family of frozen beauty?
The tiny missile that is gone
almost before it meets the chill warmth of my shivering skin?
What lesson can this disappearing flake of snow convey?