Late Winter Visions

In the gloom of late winter,

I sometimes glimpse,

the fleeting form

of a will-o-the-wisp.

I turn to follow my Destiny,

to know what it is I'm to do

I wish to find my Fate,

to learn what is in store for me.

But, the wisp becomes a snowflake.

A vision of white,

to be lost in a white-washed world.