Out of the storm, the little man emerges,
searching the snow-covered park for a
park bench or gazebo or any unoccupied
spot to call home.

Like a magus suddenly appearing out of
nowhere, the stranger seems to come out
of the eye of the storm,

released from the womb of the blizzard, a
child being born into his earthly existence.

And now, beneath the fierce, flowing
whiteness that engulfs him, almost
swallowing his fugitive soul,

he prays silently to the Beyond
and the Within, grasping faith

in the Nothingness, a whirling
ball of emptiness in which one
is consumed and then resurrected
before vanishing into dust.