Snowfall in the Cosmos

The Day It Snowed in the Galaxy

I'm drifting away from the thunderous beat of life. 

With each breathe more of my light is drained away and recycled into hopeful life somewhere far into that cluster of stars.

It's difficult to know that delicate feeling of being full of light when all you've known is being drained of it.

Despite my slowing rhythm, everything moves on entangled in their own notes of the orchestra they call life.

Is my existence even real when the entire universe seems to beat right past it?

Then, there it was. That cold gentle touch to my cheek. It was alarmingly cold, but strangely warmed up my entire being. There it was again, and once more, and twice more. It was too soft to be debris and too small to have been a pebble of some sort. Yet, it continued to fall and before I knew it I was wrapped in a blanket of ice crystals. Was it even possible to snow in space? I didn't know, but it didn't matter. 

Soon I found myself paving paths for the crystals to settle in and as my heart started to warm from the plush feeling it brought—those paths turned to streams, then rivers, then seas. As I was about to dive into the glistening ocean, I hesitated. All my life I had been conducted a beat, composed a melody, and tied to the strings that only knew what they were given. I did not know how to produce my own beat, play my own melody, nor arrange my own body to the rhythm of my tune. And here I was doing just that with the mere push of this ice crystal falling miraculously from the dark skies. 

I hesitated out of fear. I hesitated out of doubt. I hesitated out of hate. All directed to none other than the core of my very being. 

I now stand at the edge wondering if the hope of what lies beyond in that snow ocean is enough to win over the darkness behind me that pulls me back.