The Snowflake

The snowflake falls,
It slowly flutters,
Driven by
A gentle breeze.

The snowflake calls,
It softly utters,
"I want to fly!
Let me go, please."

The wind relents
And frees the snowflake,
Which floats on
And soars away.

As steams condense
And raindrop form take,
The snowflake's drawn
To fly all day.

Through monsoon
And through the gale,
The snowflake's gaze,
Must see it all.

Toward the moon
And past the hail,
From eerie haze
Ere it must fall.

Through the night
And into day-break,
The snowflake drifts
At last to ground.

The end of flight
For this small snowflake
At last consists
A pure white mound.