Crystals from the skies (Poem)
Sheet of crystals, together harmonious,
Hallucinations long lost and thought missing,
As we grew, it too had grown from us,
Miracle of the youth’s yearning, and wishing.
Remarkable the nature of the snow,
Not quite water, yet neither ice,
And like the spectrums of the rainbows,
Perfection is measured, in every type.
We think of our livelihoods and grow impatient,
What of the road journeys and travel times?
What we saw as joy, now seen as frustrations,
Is it not the same snow, by which we were mesmerised?
The phenomenon of landscapes when snow visits,
Is but a metaphor of the child’s being; transparent,
Every footprint and minute marks gradual diminish,
We forget how true we once were, and lament.
For many grow only to curse the blessings,
Our livelihoods pry incumbent on their demise,
As children wait yearly by their window sills,
Patiently hoping, for the re-opening of the skies.