The solemnity and reverence of falling snow

The slow procession of flakes,
Dropping daintily from the sky,
Like a choreographed ballet,
Fills me with a sacred awe.
The forest quietens,
As the birds and animals,
Speak in moderated tones.
Their home has become a light-filled cathedral.
And they demonstrate respect for its majesty.
I become mesmerised by the passage of single flakes.
And feel my soul cleansed and nourished,
By the freshness of this pure modest spectacle.