you are unexpected
like the first falling snowflakes on a winter's night
they tumble down from the pearly gray clouds, illuminated by streetlights, something not from this earth
whether it's the start of a gentle flurry or a powerful storm
full of either gentle touches against your skin or biting winds forged of ice and agony
and I wonder if you will turn my world into a wonderland or a wasteland
but for now all we have is this slowly falling snow
welcome in its mystery