Listening

All those silent,

tumbling snowflakes that came,

now gone.

When they arrived,

it was as if the sky had opened up

her Heavenly vault

of tiny angel wings,

and offered them to us;

the waiting ones,

on earth.

Now,

comes the night,

never invited,

but always arriving.

While the rest of the city sleeps,

I listen.

There is a cold wind blowing~

and as I hold winter in my my waiting palms

I think,

* We need a softer snow once more.*

Once more,
once more,
once more.