I cried myself to sleep last night
at songs come from my past.
They come to me to bring me joy,
But left me sore at last.
The storm rages all around me.
Its ferocious intensity intrigues me.
As I warily continue my search,
I find myself a part of the storm.
Pure water from the heavens condenses,
A snowflake is born!
So confused I am on matters of the heart.
How can I touch what I cannot see,
How can I hear what is unheard,
How can I see what is unseen,