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This is a poem that I wrote some time back.

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The world hangs on a shroud of mist
that fades and blurs to nothingness
as rain drips down the mirror sky
and ripples break away and race
to dance upon the wreck of ruin
as befits the grace of debris.

and still the surface shimmers soft,
disguising all that might define
an unclear line ‘twixt world and mist.

and this grey-soft sponge of cloudy sky
dampens the world of wondering why
as cloaking pearls fall on the world
to pause the working of wondering

which as it stops, is spurred by north
wind that blows so bitter cold
and turns the driving drops to silence,
bringing about the crashing halt
and finality of fully frozen forms.

then mirrors fold and multiply
the fabric of reality
to bend and shape and redefine
as sky and snow and ice entwine

so when this sky’s streaked starshine silver,
and glowing, glittering, glistening gray
reflections freeze and are no more when
shatterglass becomes thy thoughts
and crumbles, tumbles to the ground
‘til powder-fine, the wind picks up
and ardently turns liquid dark
the granulated shreds of thought
so that thy spiraled reason may
begin cascading
over
and over
and
over.

~Katherina Clink