They appear once in every four seasons. In springtime, they’re gone, evaporates in summer, getting ready in autumn to shower down in winter. They were not just a battalion but an entire army which falls down from the howling skies. They were the little dust from the heaven’s gate along with the whisper of the sweetest chime. These tiny particles have distinct shapes and just like fingerprints, no matter how uncountable they are, they haven’t shared the same characteristics. They vary in uniqueness; each has different features. A delicate pattern which runs on its entire system that bends lights like a prism. Thus, looking like a glittering tear of an angel swaying around the surroundings. And when they prettily settled on the ground, they looked like a mirror as if crystals are everywhere to be seen as they piled up. Though each of them cannot be barely seen by our naked eye, as we focus them clearly, these tiny filaments vividly carry a special beauty within that dances in the stale air. A pulchritudinous beauty that no other object on earth possessed. A beauty that we can witness the catastrophic hand-made by our creator. A beauty that defines a lady. A lady that distinguish features exactly the same as those little fragments. A one-of-a-kind charm that lies beneath her sparkling eyes. Cloud-Like hands smooth like a fair feather of a ravishing dove. So soft that you don’t want to unglue those bare hands even a few inches away from her. Lips like a leaking blood on her mouth that is worth to be taken cared and kissed. Shinning shimmering hair like a flowing river under the light of the moon. Every time and every day, as I talk to her, I can imagine tiny ice that dumps my uneven skin tone. I can feel the freezing temperature in me as if I was drowned in a cold water. Time was ticking but her presence caused the time to froze that the only heat coming from me was my only breath mesmerizing every single second as it erodes. A celestial dirt in the name of a snowflake.
Flakes which falls from heaven along with her like a little replica of an angel’s halo that was dropped miles away making the place splendid. During winter times, nightlife is not odd since they express beauty to each dusk. Also distinguished like a falling stardust at dawn which reflects the prime light of the waking sun. Thus, creating features like a crushed snowball in the morning scenery. Yes, it’s the snowflake in the eye of a girl. A girl deemed to inspire me, before. Before, the coldness she brings makes me shimmer as I witness her like a snowflake in my vision. Now, the coldness she brings makes my heart froze as if it refuses to beat. Before, she was a sweet calm scenery of snowflakes falling every night. Now, this night was a raging snowstorm leaving me dying in a frostbite on my gloomy room. The lady that was the reason of my sweet dream before, is a nightmare now.
I walk and thought of them as they fall into my imagination. As these tiny little things continue to fall, it reminds me that life is still going on. Just an analogy of this things, they fall, melt and evaporate. I may be falling in failures right this moment, I know it will evaporate in my success tomorrow, in my right season.
© 2018 Jean O'Leonhart