Beautiful to watch now
by the blue lights of the Christmas tree
and a lone taper burning, wavering
from a draft i feel but cannot see
Dancing back and forth past the window,
to and fro goes the snow
windblown mounds of milky white
pure, pristine in the glow of the streetlights
Pressed here and there against the fence
separating man from woods where spirits rest
waiting like us for the coming day
to glide along the top of the snow
leaving swirls seen at break of day
before the sun melts the memory
traces of the magic of the moment
pieces of the Mystery...
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