A Snowflake in 3000

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Falling, falling… like a sinking stone,

My fingers are delicate, the colour of bone.

Softly, softly… Floating, as I come down,

Snow-capped peaks, rolling hills that are brown.

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Twirling, twirling… somersaulting from the sky,

I glance quickly as the world passes by.

Closer, closer… I’m almost there,

Then I see a head of brown curly hair.

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My friends around me dance and land,

Some on his lashes, but I on his hand.

The sudden feeling of warmth and skin,

I know his history and the places he’s been.

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Quickly, quickly… his feet begin to move,

He paces as if, there’s something to prove.

Steadily, steadily… the beat is strong,

And he’s nervous and worried, if he is wrong.

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I feel his heart go thump thump thump,

Snowflakes inside, melt and bump.

But I am still as precious as I was when I fell,

And my patterns still hold my stories to tell.

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As I wait in his hand, till he holds one more,

Love is the same in 2004.

It will never change, inevitable as can be,

He grasps her hand… again I am free.

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I am a snowflake, falling like a sinking stone,

My fingers are delicate- the colour of bone.

I land on a strand of green grass,

Patterns so intricate, as if they’re on glass.

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In a way I know I’ll always be,

A snowflake floating, inevitably free…