I woke up in the middle of the night To see a world swathed in silent white. The snow came down in a luminous cloud One little flake landed on my palm. And melted into water; no fuss, so calm. This is the way one should accept death…. The calm cessation of drawing the breath Everything stilled in the billowing cloud Where the angels’ white, is the white of the shroud. Melting, not into liquidity But quietly into eternity.