Wind howled through the trees;
tearing, biting, breaking me.
Storms of pain and suffering
Left a wasteland lost in grief.
As the storm began to settle;
Slowly, gently, little by little;
The gears stopped their grinding metal;
Silence came with gentle rebuttal.
Falling slowly from the sky,
Stars that twinkled in twilight
Covered the sorrowful, ugly sights;
Point by point they covered my life.
Not all at once, so suddenly,
Was the wreckage covered quickly;
But steadily, gracefully, gradually,
The snowflakes hid all misery.
Every speck of hope from above
Was sent to cover the ugly muck.
I say a prayer of thanks to God
For the snow I love so much.
P.S.: The answer to Riddle #2 is “Birch Trees.”