falling

snow flakes float
from where
the words of God
used to descend
playful, cajoling, gliding
touching buildings, trees,
hearts young and old
then the ground
where they embrace
again
and yet again
losing individuality
under the collective weight
of furtive embraces
and silent screams

falling leaves, floating
gliding, descending
like the words of God
rustling leaves,
ginger footprints
rustled souls

silence
deafening
despite the cacophony of everyday din

a silence in which stillness stood out
a repose in which God stood out

and that smile