The Music for Saints’ Ears
The snow is like two perfect music realms.
It came in perfect purest notes as flakes
All night and now the vision overwhelms.
In dark it manifested white as lakes
Turned first to ice, then covered with true white.
High symphonies first come inside the minds
But then composers let the swirling flight
Come settle on the lake. Whiteness winds
Around but then those thoughts take over. Morning comes,
The other realm for snow. The world is changed.
This means the usual in life succumbs
To genius made of voices rearranged
To gorgeous alien perfection laid
As if the flakes were sounds that God has prayed.