Light footsteps of the passing birds,

leave slight footprints in the snow.

You can see the prints,

but you can’t tell where they go.

The prints get deeper,

as they grow,

you feel a smile growing because you see more and more.

Then the prints end, and your smile fades,

that’s not the end.

You know there is another track,

you look everywhere and you find only your own,

your own track.