I see that I live like a flake of snow
Symmetrical arrows point away from the center,
Scatter and disperse my focus.
I tumble through air in fragile confusion.
This I must remember:
This frozen drop of water
Was once submerged in prehistory’s floes.
A snowflake drifts alone for a time
But always returns to the torrent.
There is a river before and behind me.
It holds me up if I lay back and float.