Millions of tiny paratroopers invaded my yard today
Falling from an overcast sky, dark and cold and grey
“Whence come you?” I wondered aloud as my gaze was cast
To watch the snow flakes tumble down, winter here at last
Or could they be but dandelion seeds blowing on the wind
On a balmy summer day, to lift and float and spin
To carry far those tiny wings to plant into my lawn
Yellow flowers, for wine or food, I mostly wish were gone
A wondrous place this earth we tread, miraculous things each day
Grace our life with bless or curse, bring joy or bring dismay
Tis how we look at it, I guess, what holds for one the key
With smile or frown we look upon what comes to you and me
One grey winter afternoon, as dear husband and I watched snowflakes lazily floating down from the sky, my aging eyes saw tiny paratroopers, the shape of dandelion seeds, disc shapes with a rudder tail below to guide and keep upright. “Do you see that, the paratrooper shapes?” I asked him. “Yes,” he said, “my eyes are getting old, too!”
That reminded me of a time long ago with my family at a cabin in the woods. One snowy evening our maternal grandmother sat gazing out the window at the deepening darkness, snowflakes highlighted by the outside corner light shining brightly. “Look at those stringy snowflakes!” she suddenly exclaimed. We all thought this hilarious, for, of course, everyone knows there is no such thing. Or is there? The flakes were falling so fast that they did indeed looked stringy. In this place of miraculous occurrences, no matter aging eyes, stringy snowflakes and tiny paratroopers may certainly be seen!
In days of gray when life seems all a-winter, may you find flurries of surprise and your soul be filled with wonder! And may unexpected possibilities renew your heart with hope and joy!