Jack Frost

When he was young, he fell in from the sky
   In airy dances a snowflake performs,
   Down in a blizzard of exquisite forms;
 While many in a soft, still drift lay by,
 He knew for the first time the wonder of “I.”
   There was special warmth in silent conforms;
   All were comrades in the study of storms
 ‘Til death in life ended the endless “Why?”

Disconcerting rivulets passed his ice  
  As passionate words into a crevasse.
He, fatally frightened with exclusion,
  Dropped, knowing at once humility’s price:

Joy ineffable!  Just water may pass
  To streams, to the sun, to clouds’ confusion.