A smidgen of dust, upwards borne,
By the warm winds to the cold air;
Dust meets ice, a snowflake is born.

Water in its heart does ensnare,
That floating speck, a dust mote;
Into a six point star, it does flare. 

Star of ice, dust in a watery coat,
Fleetingly graces the dim skies,
Till it turns too heavy to float.

Then gently to the ground it flies,
Soft and delicate, fluttering away;
Like a dream from shuttered eyes.

Fleeting its life, does not linger or stay,
Yet, a falling snowflake does enthrall;
Brightens the night and your day,

A snowflake is dainty and small,
Hides a message in its ephemeral form;
Sometimes, it is beautiful to fall.