Mist

The mist in the winter is canopy of snowfall,
Snowflakes scintillate the pathway,
Walking in the snow feels like a needle in a haystack,
With uncertainty of the path – where it will lead you – one must enjoy the view.
Such beautiful time comes once a year.
Surroundings gleam and new perspectives lead towards a new path,
Traveling to a new path feels like a new brush sweeping you clean.
It’s a vacillation of mind whether to accept a new perspective on life or to delve into the past,
That is painting your world blue in the midst of the winter.