Honesty Pants

What a beautiful falling out;
Water vapor and the freezing point of air -
Skydiving snowflakes
Unparalleled Kamikaze creations.
From where I sit, my eyes reach through a 6-paned window as
Each drop decorates the ground - as if this world was some kind of
chocolate desert and God was finishing us off with powdered sugar.
Each flake is different. It's purpose to melt.
It's future to fall -
The gentle melodies of Maxence Cyrin peeks its piano keys through my speakers
Raising the question of where I might find myself during next February's snowfall.
Today I searched, again, for my possible future, came away
discouraged. But the tiny Kamikaze creations whispered, as they fell past,
do not choose defeat - difficult as it may to grow up when lies
ceiling your dreams
On this white day, hope is a choice. Tomorrow, hope will still be a choice.
I wish to anchor myself in it despite the weather on the sea - I cannot tell you where I will sit during next February's fall, but I can tell you I will probably be surprised at where Divinity will lead me to land.