Louis Gander is a story teller in poetry form. Many poems are true and many are not. He thanks all those who have spread the word of his free poetry. His prayer is that through his poetry, this world can become a safer, respectful, loving, forgiving, more peaceful place.

December 20, 2005

Sounds of a Snowflake 12-20-05


Shhh! Little children. Gather 'round,
Hear the raindrops falling down?
Watch and listen, hear the sound?
-That pitter, patter all around?

However, should the moisture freeze,
Before it falls into the breeze;
And blows around your little feet,
You'll never know which ones will meet.

Stand real still and do not meddle,
Can you hear the snowflakes settle?
No you can't - and why's it so?
Where does the sound of a snowflake go?

They gather here, they gather there,
Each one different - no matching pair.
They settle in - as a marching band,
Yet quietly, contour the land.

We're all like snowflakes, each our own,
Some are small - some overgrown.
Under a heavy blanket of snow,
You'll find me there - somewhere below....

I'm but just one of many more.
I’m helping hold - the upper floor.
Let others bask out in the sun,
Get tossed around in wind with fun.

For I may not be king or queen,
Always heard - and always seen.
It's all okay.... I am content,
The rest can fight and circumvent.

But if you know, just what you'll be,
It matters not to an angry sea;
Go if you want and make some noise,
But remember this, you girls and boys:

Some climb the biggest, highest tree,
And yell out orders breathlessly;
But in the end, it's not to be.
It's all a waste – futility!

It's not the din we make at birth,
That gives us special rights on earth;
It's not about the clothes we wear,
Or the gossip we might share.

It's not about the ground we tilled,
Nor all about the wealth we build;
It's really what you leave behind,
And whether you were fair and kind.

Eventually, the warm wind breaks,
And melts the coldest, biggest flakes;
They travel ditches - travel streams,
Travel creeks - with no more dreams.

Most will melt - in torrents roar,
And while they melt, they're wanting more;
It's really all, just up to you,
Who you'll be, and what you'll do.

But don't take Satan's awful blow,
When life is over and the rapids flow;
Screaming in anxious, helpless woe, because -
That's where the sounds of a snowflake go.

Did we exist? Will history show?
Who we were - or where we'd go?
It matters not, to me, you see,
For I have God - eternity.

Content and peaceful you will be,
-If you're a snowflake just like me.
Before I see that pearly gate,
It's me, who'll quietly evaporate.

©2005 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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James 4:14 (NASB)
14Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.

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