It’s been snowing all day long today. I’m inside a snow globe, and trees and shrubs across my office window are swathed in a magical shawl… tiny crystals on it shine and twinkle as if whispering some sorts of intermittent words; like a code that one most decipher, and it pulls you to it, and to the white bitterness outside.
We’re one—the snow and I. Both predestine to transpire and expire; attach to the core of earth and heaven; life and death. Dancing in the hands of the Spirit who scatters the snows and which mouth blows the winds; inexplicably made to his fancy—both the snow and I; from elements unknown in the mind of a baffling God.
To Him returns the seen and the unseen; the natural world and the unnatural... to Him returns the snows as does the soul of man.