Not sure what’s going on.
Time melts like snowflakes.
Landing upon my tongue.
Grounded angel makes,
one feel so young.

Blending in, disappearing.
Winding rivers of belief.
Field of vision mountaineering,
cheering for one more, motif.
Allowing winter’s grief.

Ice crystals soften
Through warm stream talking
Prophet, guru goddesses
snow print’s walking
Whispering cues.
As illuminated Views.