1/11/02--Revised 2/28/2011
In the dark of night it shines,
dances and glitters against the black
It envelops everything, softly, gently like a mantle of perfection
I wonder how it can be so beautiful, so innocent
it assumes nothing, it wants nothing, it holds no prejudice
it is everywhere
it is kind
it is honest
it is there as the season turns, offering no predictability,
mysterious and spontaneous
it marks it’s own course, it’s own destination
lying in wait, patiently, calmly
it departs quietly, invisibly, with no hesitation
it enters in for but a moment, to alter but not destroy
it is familiar, it is home
