Dear Crafter,
Smells like the frost of winter, like ice that sparks the bell of coated coffee from the cup of life. Song from the country side had breathed the cold weather carving a sweet trail in the snow.
Greetings! Here I come dramatically cascading from the sky carrying the voluptuous warmth inside delivered by winter angel.
Savoring the after taste of the thick clouds, by the way for now I am a tiny part known as flake from the family of snow. I would land on earth annually when the days are short and the temperature is at its lowest. I am that white six petals flower that bloomed in the air before reaching the ground. From above I can sense the tepidity feeling that budded toward where I am from side to side riding the wind. I felt nostalgic that I let the time run away, there it is! Eyes of people that glimmer to excitement welcomed me. When we covered all the places to offer the soft and fluffy feeling people would start playing with us.
As the laughter echoed they would dance, step, jump or run on us. They would also lie down on top of us swinging their arms and feet. They would mold shapes out of us. It was fun the little contact we had from humans are enough to melt us! Yet they wear thick and warm clothes to protect themselves from us. We understand we are too cold for them.
The best part is that they would mold us from their form and would name us snowman. They would give us eyes which is rock or button. Provide us nose that is longer than we thought and mouth that smiles widely from gum or sticks. Being built as snowman is kind of special because they pour their effort and feelings while building us. Yet this winter is different. The cracked window glass reflects me. Resentful feeling is coming from the house in front of me. I have doubt! I am standing in front of my crafter’s house. It felt like no one lived, yet it is light by the lantern of romance. Then the light was switched off! The world is enveloped by darkness measuring by the colder breeze I can taste the sorrow of my crafter.
Yet as the night is nudging by the howling wind a variation of trail is approaching me. Oh! How I wish! I can walk and move like him so that I can meet him halfway. Oh boy! your pale skin traces how sad you are. I can hear you breathing and then you started talk. “…You know snowman tonight it’s only both of us. My parents had gone south last month… so I guess I don’t have a choice but to spend the night with you. Here you can have my gloves…” Even if I don’t have a solid heart unlike you I kind of felt giddy for you have given me your gloves while you rub both your hand to create heat from the freezing atmosphere.
I can see how young you are, those black eyes is emotionless. Comparing to your dark hair that covered your eyebrows, your lips have turned pink from the cold. I feel lonely for you have to celebrate this winter alone in that tiny body and huge house.
You once again talk and said “hey snowman... somewhat I felt a little better because you are here for me, even if I made you lamely. Sorry about ,that it is my first time building one by myself.... I used to craft one with my parents. I bet you’re unstable.”
Right now all I can do is to hear you laugh it off because I know that it is the only thing you can do for now and all I can do is listen and stare at you as you speak. This intense desire became a raging wish that would bring you comfort. I believe that you can go through this! For you have accepted the fact and reality that you are able to look up and not keep those eyes on the ground. That shackle of your will, dig a grave where you can put that veil of isolation that you conceive. I hope that the anguish, you have spent as your cry dried down on your throat will soon rise up like a grape vine cultivated by the winter angel.
I swear under my watch! I will not let this hope be crushed like a pipe dream for the faint fragrance of winter is about to end. It will wash away the roughness and unsettling moment. With this the picture is almost complete, so please stand still my crafter for I know next time you can craft me better by yourself. I will stand firm with you until the end of this season!
As a snowman I have a lot of regrets! I can’t walk and meet you half way. I can’t speak so that I can tell you that I am here. I don’t have hands so that I can rub your back and wipe your tears. I don’t have real eyes so that I can cry for you! And most of all I cannot move, so that I can hug you tightly and show you how grateful and thankful I am. You still did your best when you are making me. I am sorry! I cannot do anything for you.
Thank you, for spending the night outside your house, so that you can be with me instead of staying inside that house and sleep under the warm blanket. Thank you for the late night talk you have shared with me. Rather thank you for shaping a bond with me even if eventually, I will melt away. For I believe that those tears you shed is enough to wash me from where I stand in front of your house. I honestly envy you boy! For you are capable of things that I cannot do. All I can do is to let you use me, build me as you wish no matter you how lame I can be!
I am grateful! You patiently restore parts of me every day when I am about to fall down. Thank you for the scarf that you put on me even if you did not make me a neck. Thank you for the warm hat to cover my skinny head from the blaze of wind.
NOTE: I want you to be honest and laugh without caring the world! There will be lots of reality on earth I want you too bravely and boldly step forward boy. Savor the pain, for soon it will fade. Do not love the pain, for it will freeze your already broken heart.
This unspoken feelings and reckless attachment taste like the flavor of earth; soaked in a snow cone and shaved ice. Taking crossword to scribe this letter from a snowman you once crafted.
It is unpleasant not to know the name of my crafter. The pillar that supports my whole figure has been dissolved by the breeze. Please craft me again! Till next time!
PS: I wish to have a neck next time so that I can properly enjoy the use of scarf. Thank you.
Love from,
Snow man.