Our preparation is like snow falling,
small flakes landing here and there,
the first ones fading, white to wet
on roofs and pavement,
disappearing silently
into the grass
Later it may thicken,
accumulation quick enough
to form a lock — crystal fingers
holding bridging structure
against the melt,
And before we know it
we may be transformed
stepping softly
into the opening world
of our next life.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 22, 2014
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