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…On Poetry and Fiction

The "Snowflakes" That Live Among Us

written by: Phyllis P. Colucci



Have you ever noticed a snowflake after it has fallen onto your winter coat, or your woolen glove? Some are strange-looking, others messy looking – yet there is always that one and only which stands out. There is always that one and only that becomes your special friend for the day. The one that makes you smile, the one that speaks to you, the one that pays you a short visit as you walk along the streets. There is always that one and only that you hope would stay put on your coat or your glove, so that you could show it off to the next person you run into. You beg it to stay with a stare from your eyes. Unfortunately, it melts away as quickly as it appears. It’s beautiful. It’s regal. It’s enchanting. It’s a work of art, it’s a gift of nature, and it’s a message from God. It is perfectly formed, and is magically cut out as if it were created in an arts and crafts class. It resembles a piece of exquisite lace, or a miniature crocheted stitch from one of grandma’s doilies. Remember those?

Children adore snow. However, what they see is “the sum of all of its parts” in one big snowfall, as they patiently wait to go out and play in it. They jump in it, talk to it, sing to it, laugh with it. They make snow angels, throw snowballs, build snowmen…and just enjoy the mystery of snow in the simplest ways, without question. If they listen closely, the snow speaks into their innocent ears in the form of a cold and tingly snowflake. Yes, snowflakes live among us through the whispers of nature.

Adults adore snow too. Only before they see the beauty of it, they also recognize “the sum of all of its parts” in one big snowfall, as they wait to go out and shovel it. They walk in it, slip in it, drive in it, skid in it, and often times argue with it. They clear their properties so people can walk by, they dig out their cars so they can get to work or run errands, and they continue to watch those awful inches grow higher and nastier by the hour…But yes, adults too may enjoy the mystery of snow in the simplest ways; but most times miss its loveliness by wondering only about the effects of “the sum of all of its parts”.

Sometimes in life, we are told to stop and smell the coffee – or stop and smell the roses. Well, while that is good advice, let’s add one more idiom to the mix. That is, “Stop and appreciate the snowflakes”. Their message is bright and clear. When the perfect one falls on top of you, take notice and befriend it. Let it walk with you, let it talk with you, let it teach you about life before it quickly disappears. The conversation between you will be subtle, yet perfect. Its perfection will tell you that there is something much greater than ourselves who is in control of our universe. What a gift it is to receive such a message through the beauty of a snowflake.



A gift of nature, a message from God
They are a work of art - regal beauty
So enchanting as they fall to earth

So white, so pure, and heaven-sent
Exquisite lace – grand perfection
Amazing to the naked eye

Kissed by angels upon descent
Crocheted by hands of celestial pride
So wondrous, so divine, the astral cousin

Stellar and glorious in magic and mystery
Formation born of unrivaled magnificence
Its pattern perfectly aligned – so picturesque

So reverent and saintly in its lone state
Adored by its creator, viewed from up above
One snowflake - then two, three, maybe four

A beautiful snowfall brings more and more
The sum of all of its parts
– yet one snowflake will roar!



If we listen closely, the snow speaks into our ears in the form of a cold and tingly snowflake. Yes, snowflakes live among us through the whispers of nature.  - With this short piece and accompanying poem, perhaps I can share a new appreciation/perspective on the "Snowflakes That Live Among Us".

Phyllis P. Colucci

Phyllis P. Colucci

I am a freelance / indie writer (fiction, poetry, blog), residing in Brooklyn, New York.
I retired from a Supervisory/Admin position with a Federal Law Enforcement agency in NYC, a few years back.
Presently, I am pursuing my passion for writing, and most of my writing has that New York edge.
Phyllis P. Colucci
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