Saturday, June 27, 2015

Snowdrop

Withered petals of the autumn beauties
cascade to the ground
in a flurry of forgotten shades
Trees stand bare, only as a few pieces
of wood, coated with the shining powder
of a wintry paradise
that mirrors the weak sunshine
and shimmers faintly

And in this land of endless crystals,
boasting of cold, unfeeling elegance
devoid of the colors of warmth
exist a few strands of green,
contributing viridescence to a frosty scene,
topped with white, which melts in the snow,
difficult to discern, yet pleasurable once perceived
They battle the biting chill of the winter air,
blooming blithely, effortlessly,
their bells signaling the approach of dawn,
awakening nature from its slumber

Milky white against the darkness of dusk,
pale and enchanting against the light of the day,
resilient and unyielding,
yet an emblem of delicate allure,
light and fragrant,
whose scent never ceases to reach
the other creatures summoned by nature
Modest and demure,
mildly mocking, its petals open
in a flawless contrast of forest and frost

Taking the stage of the bliss of winter,
its counterparts having succumbed to the glacial ambience
stands the snowdrop,
conjured by an angel, having emerged from a snowflake,
as a symbol of hope during bleak times,
as evidence that winter thaws into spring,
that snow fades to scurrying life,
that sadness paves the path to joy

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