dear mr. snowman

O gentle drizzle falling slowly, softly to the ground,
Covering the empty streets in a cold blanket of white.
The wind now gently blowing,
Stirring and twirling the little white flakes.
They melt on my face as I exhale gusts of mist.
What a pretty sight if it weren’t altogether sad.

The weight of the world lay on my chest,
My limbs paralyzed, refusing to move.
The tears now forming icicles that droop from my face.
A single breath fogs up the windows,
Revealing hidden words of mourning and sorrow.

The snowflakes are falling, the icicles are forming,
But dear Mr. Snowman, you came too fast and went too soon.
No amount of tears will bring you back,
And no amount of tears can tell of my grief.
But winter will come again, and the snowflakes will fall.
I’ll put your crooked nose in place once again,
And wild berries for your wry smile.

-

I wrote part of this two years ago when Markus went to be with the Lord, but never really got round to finishing it. In these two years, many things have changed, including the intensity of grief and sorrow that I once felt. In retrospect, I'm amazed how God heals the soul and comforts the broken hearted.