by Emily Capps (Beloved Dreamer)

The first snowfall is flawless,
A blanket of white, blinding, bliss;
Purity untouched by the footprints of man,
By the messy footprints of everyday trespasses.

For a time, for a brief time, in the morning light, it glistens,
Crystals of ice, like glittering particles of gems.
I want to take it all in, to wrap it round me, to consume it,
I want this beauty to consume me within it.

Yet I know, if I step in, I leave my prints on its purity;
It is gone, so instantly gone, like a memory.
Only the untouched lies so beautiful before me;
Its untouchable beauty haunts me and taunts me.

It draws my mind to what I cannot express;
It draws my hand to what I cannot grasp;
If I dare grasp it, it dies in the taking,
This glittering purity that I want to consume me.

I consume the snow, yet I can consume no more:
A mouthful of snow is just a mouthful of snow,
And I still remain the same—except colder.

Stay with me, morning snow, stay with me a while longer,
For I cannot bear to pass away any more,
I want to take you in with my eyes, with my soul;
With my hands, with my heart, I must have you, the untouchable.

I want more of Thee, the Untouched, the Untouchable.
Is there a purity that could ever reach my soul?
There must!—a snow-white Beauty I consume, who consumes me—
Someone who somehow can make footprints purely.

I once saw Thee walking, leaving footprints in the snow,
And yet somehow Thou made them so beautiful;
Somehow red footprints became breathtaking art—
Thy Blood, I consumed, and Thou consumed my heart.

Thy pure feet, Thy pure hands, Thy pure side was streaked by me;
How could I be worthy to even look upon Thee?
Thee, the Touchless Toucher of all that is touchable,
How could I grasp in my hands Thy Pure Heart?

Yet, a touch of Thy Purity, and I become clean;
Take me into Thee, O Purity of Purities;
Consume me, that I may be worthy to consume Thee.