The wind flows through my hair
As thoughts flow through my head,
Trees draped in perfect snow
The ground a white canvas,
The path under my skies slightly worn

Snow falls and piles
Erasing the wear of time
The wear of thought
And all seems simple
It is.

And yet the world complicates almost all, solitude wraps me
Yet solitude comforts me
My thoughts are my own
My actions are my own
All polished by the pure white

The color of Snow- the reflection of light
The color of me- the reflection of though
Be