All children born when the snow is falling
Are known to carry winters magic
Their hearts are deep and quiet
Their eyes hold a galaxy of stars
Their gift is a warmth that drives away the ache of cold
On the night that Kitty was born
The snow was called into a clear and starlit sky
Lured by a magic,
grown amongst the bare branches of trees
As though they themselves were wands
As the snow clouds gathered
Her grandmother wove a cloth
From strands of the north winds beard
And the great bears fur
Died with juniper berries and oak moss
And filled with the silence of snow
Then she stitched the cloth into a coat
That would grow with Kitty
Through the years
And all her ages
It would hold forever the magic
of midwinters night .
