When I lay back
in the cradle of snow,
I understood, for once,
where I was—here—
and why:
to be held
and
to behold
the silent, breathing
project I’m part of,
along with everything else.
Sunk into the me-shaped space
instantly offered
by a million tiny crystals,
there was no distance,
no other,
no elsewhere
just the deepest communion
and the surprising warmth
of the winter womb,
in which I was
gently rocked
by my own breath
and wonder.
Photo by Donald Giannatti