snow angels

one year after the newtown tragedy, and it's still so real. 

we wake, 

and it hits us.

the date, 

december fourteenth.

the feelings surge behind our eyes,

cold remembrance permanently pressed into our hearts,

bleeding grief,

remorse,

apologies.

little faces,

too small to be a memory;

why haven't they gotten bigger?

why do they remain the same;

frozen?

we know they're here in spirit,

but our emptiness does not grow fuller.

believing is not seeing,

but seeing is believing.

we open our eyes on december fourteeth,

inevitably unprepared for the horror that will recur on this day,

and we see the snow.

flakes of heaven,

falling slowly to join us on earth,

saying 'we're still here'

'right here'.

endless spirals of snow,

blanketing this bloodied world in white,

making sure we know they're okay.

we can touch them now,

catch them on our tongues,

shape them into snowmen,

watch them make this day beautiful again,

but like all winter wonderlands,

this one will melt.

our snow angels will go back to where they belong.

but we'll be okay.

we know they're okay,

that they missed us enough to come down for a visit,

that soon enough,

we'll do the same.