Crumbling under the weight of white light,
heavy with crystallized patterns of time,
snowfields kneel to starfields tonight,
yielding to that immaculate depth,
host to the ghost of cold fire
adorning this magical
Poised amidst shifting drifts
of incandescent mist, serene in the mood
of soft sifted skyshine, pristine Mind reflects
itself in each sparkling jewel of snowflake.
Descending silent from sourceless sky,
I alight on the tip of this world, just so,
and then melt back into myself, as snow.
Everything sighs and rests in thrall, till at last
the fog has lifted, winter dreaming’s done,
and this mountain is just a mountain,
the sky is just the sky, after all.