Falling, flying, faltering into a puddle
Their beauty never to be seen again, never
Coursing gloriously to the ground, to the dust
Melting under the hand of a red, burning star

Born with poetry, flying with grace
Handwork designs of the finest designer
Blowing in a song of storm or sweet breeze
Born of beauty, made of liquid glass, sky clear

Falling as they fly, gathering on the dust
And then into it, gathering and breaking
Smiles turn into bitter frowns
A teardrop, a cold drink to the earth gratefully swallowing

Beauty lasts no longer than a snowflake
A snowflake lasts no longer than beauty
A good song always too short, too brief
A bad one always too long, too lengthy

So whilst the good song lasts
While the snowflake is still a wonder at less than best
Let us smile, let us fly while we have wings
Let our beauty and brightness shine its brightest

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