Broken glass falls from the sky, settles, and turns to snow, free flowing, the steady stream of drops from the cloud turn cold and flaky, so softly, they ride, pushed down the run, roll round the bin, the water, so softly, they ride, floating from the sky, to a cushion down below, setting, a temporary flow, so softly, they ride, up high, and down low, christened with a blanket of peace, sleep, rest, regenerate thy soul.
Nature's Way 
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