The Secret to Having it All is Knowing You Already Do

There is a special silence,

That comes with the falling snow.

As if every flake has a secret,

It shares only with the cold.

And still there is a part of me,

That knows this quiet song.

That falls with grace,

Like a snowflake, from heaven’s open palm.

And comes to light on ledge or leaf,

On field or freckled face,

And here I sit… amazed,

That neither is ever in the wrong place.