Thinking of Mom on My Birthday

Sleet, snow, ice:
Silence falls.
A white emptiness,
A sleep
That envelopes everything
Right down
To the last squirrel
To the last robin.
Nothing to see here.
Nothing to claim.
Close your eyes.
Rest.
Between each drop,
Peace, eternity.
The quiet breathing
Of the ages.
Everyone, everything
Is here.