For so long I’ve been waiting in this open space of white. 

Not sure where to step next or where I’ve already come and gone.

The flakes drop from the air ever so softly.

The longer I watch the more I lose sense of how much time has passed.

All I can see is a landscape of white being dotted with more flecks of white.

And there is no before and there is no after.

There is just this endless expanse of this.

How far have I come? And how much further do I have to go?

Do these questions even matter anymore when the planes no longer have an end or beginning?

I think I just want to stand outside and lift my tongue out for the snow drops just a bit longer.