Pillows of Snow / by Meryle

"There is a holy white light to a sunshine winter day.
Everything sounds soft and the light shines brighter, there are crystals in the street.

The black lace of naked tree fracture dark veins across the sky like the stems of your own lungs.

And then you breath in ice knives and you are awake, and present, aware of every sliver of the shiver of every cell in your body, they all say:
"oh yes this is cold, like the last time I forgot, what a shock."

Is it bad to feel cold when the sun has a halo of white gold and mounds of fluffy white diamonds reflect the sky?
The feelings lose meaning when - reflective and gleaming - the light shimmering beauty infects the eyes."

- Meryle