Snowflakes swirl like mini-tornadoes,
Spin, grow dizzy, then fall down.
Wind whistles softly like a wanderer,
Then it wails as one longing to be found.
Layer upon layer, whitest white,
Snow drifts form, declaring winter’s might.
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Snug and warm I watch and wonder
About each flake and how it’s shaped
Each one different, yet containing
Six pointed figures delicate as lace
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If I grab one it will be gone;
A momentary work of art.
Why would God take time to make it?
It’s a gift straight from His heart.
Beauty tells of God’s great glory,
But the message may be lost.
Life that’s written in His writing,
Tells of beauty and great cost.
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Snow is falling like a curtain,
Blurring all the things we see
God is calling in each snow flake
“You are precious, made for me.” Doma
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