My Prophet and the Snow

I wonder did my Prophet
ever see the snow,
flakes fresh from heaven
dancing here below?
Perhaps in the caravans–
whither did they go?
I wonder did my Prophet
ever see the snow?

I think that my Prophet
would have smiled at the snow;
light upon light
that the heart longs to know;
spotless as the desert
where feet fear to go.
I think that my Prophet
would have smiled at the snow.

I almost hear my Prophet say,
Huuu! to the snow.
Earth, water, air:
all in white they now go;
and don as one a veil,
their naked truth to show.
I almost hear my Prophet say,
Huuu! to the snow.

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