Last night I saw what she spoke of...
A lamp-post, a light, and falling snow.
Falling lightly, slowly in small illumination
With darkness around, and there
Above my head a small window of simplicity
Of a lamp-post and comforting dust.
She saw falling snow and liked it.
And I saw the small illumination and dust.
We saw different perspectives of one reality;
For I realized, she wasn't watching the lamp
Nor the window of lit snow, but she was
Watching the snow itself.
There was no light behind it
Say that of street ambiance,
No direct beam of illumination,
She simply saw the snow, and she smiled.
She talks to me more often, and I to her
Though we are of different perspectives;
I hope to know her better-for friend or more.
There is at least one connecting factor...
We both find Beauty in comforting dust.