The Snow is Falling

The snow is falling, setting a picturesque scene of a cold paradise

Every crack concealed in sparkling white, setting the eyes to delight at the sight
The midday sun hovers over the hills and trees once green, a luxury to be seen
Everything set a glow in a wintery haze set to amaze and cause peace and chaos
So much fuss and much to discuss, plans changed and agendas rearranged
The snow is falling, the tree branches bow in honor and respect, as though in anticipation
Of more to come, for this cannot be the end to winter’s enchantment
The weight is heavy over the fragile floor
Nothing more to uphold
Amongst the grumples and celebrations, of plans changed and agendas rearranged
Comes something rather strange, impossible to engage, the movements come quick and fast
Surely it is not something that will last
The snow is falling from the trees, cascading upon the shivering ground as the mountain tops quiver No sight or sounds surround what will become impossible to predict, like that of a wicked trick
The ground shivers and shakes
All falls silent and still awaiting the inevitable cascade of winter to fall from those hills
The knees of a town shiver and shake, oblivious to what has taken place
All is quiet and all is still
The snow is falling over the newly formed hills, concealing the aftermath of the once dancing ground
Profound and precise, nobody and nothing could have predicted, the stage that set the hills and Grounds to shake, a tumultuous act of nature or perhaps it was fate
Not unknown to these parts, and yet so quickly all begins to fall apart
And yet the snow is falling
Quiet and still
Unseen sights concealed in winter’s might, out of the way from protection, rescue or salvation.
The sun fades behind the clouds no longer glowing and proud
The snow is falling on the ground
And nobody is making a sound
Apart from one soul hidden far away
Tucked beneath a quintessential hillside in a village
Known to many and yet not seen often
On his travels in the sky
Taking flight when the need arises
Yet during the chaos of a nature’s demise
It is he that rises in the aftermath to alert and raise awareness of what has been done
For this is no time for foolishness and fun
The snow is falling on the ground
Yet the unseen figure, quiet and small, is up making the only sound
The rescuers come
The people begin to hear
And all commence in  clearing away what winter has done
Soon the silence will be broken as the survivors began to cheer
Have no fear, the unseen soul, quiet and small, is hear to listen and clear away
All that winter has brought on this cold January day.
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