Chaos into Action

Not all leaves in a tree are still
Blades and bristles fidgeting
Squirming to turn chaos into action
He ventures back to winter
When the boughs droop and the breath is silent
He is dancing about in the snow
Feeling the sting of frost
Upon the tip of his nose
Malleable blankets of white like mirrors
He sees himself
Snowflakes scattered among the exhales of God
But one finds a course to his chilled, numb palm
The ice bites his skin
As it fills the grooves of his hand
Shaping and eroding the deep-set valleys
The water trickles down to be lost in the clouds below
Transient is its body and memory
As he will never catch the snowflake
Not until his body lies cold
And he himself shall melt like the snowflake
Into darkness, undeviating

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