He fell from the heavens to the Earth to the waiting snow. Puffs of diamond dust sparkle in cloudless sun with the impact. Pfffoooot. He lay there like a child, making an angel in the snow as the particles settle around him, sprawled and staring at the endless aqua sky beneath white, reaching branches of aspens thirsty for winter sun. There should be peace in a world connected to the heavens through nature. Humans rush around and miss all this. He stretched his arms and legs as far as they would go and considered the road ahead. 

He wondered if it was worth it to stand. Why depart from the feeling of the crisp air disappearing into his chest, becoming part of him before turning into tiny clouds dissipating with each exhalation? This moment should be savored. His eyes crossed to look at the condensation looming on his mustache. Then, a flash of white-hot guilt cuts to the guts, begging answers of why he decided to fall. He let the feeling wane, focusing again on the warm sun in contrast to the coolness seeping to his thigh backs resting on the snow. Life is long and full of complications. 

He lie back with another poof of the snow, looking toward the sky. Let one second be free to reach upwards just like the tendrils of the aspens. Hope is why he came here. One more second of enjoying the physical pleasures before starting the journey. 

Once the lie got out, everything got tainted. A futile attempt to erase watercolors. Everything already bled where it will settle. “It is out of our hands”, they said. But, whose hands is it in? That is the question. I am on  a quest, looking for the one in charge. It is strange to get used to waiting for something that won’t come. A shift in focus is warranted, but, that may take some time *palms your head down below the water*. They treat him like a dry erase board. Do this. Go here. Adapt. It’s a ghost of a joke the next day. No intent to assemble the bigger picture.