Beauty has become for me Sadness

So fell the snowfall,

glazing our days in white wreckage;

cracking wind rhythms in barren branches,

burying the full and fallen.

moonlit stillness, and a soul with eyes.

We have never been,

and

once more that wished

is more than that grasped.

less then hope.

Somewhere someone wonders.

Somewhere someone walks on water.

Some have given over reaching for

what lies

in us

  and in the snow

to hold us so,

but I have been told

the wish is a

  promise broken,

and rivers run with

  seaward whispers,

heavy, and unspoken.