The purpose of snow

The quite hiss
of a black snow blizzard
like onyx crystal flakes
are unmarked beauty
fallen from the sky
a sky child
withering in my hand
between sporadic sleets of snow
I'm as free as nature grows

Aren't we all a single flake of snow
as fragile and as delicate
branded with our own uniqueness
aren't with all within the hand of nature

We're hung like decorations on earth
with our smiles, our sorrow, guilt and grief
sensitive to high temperatures
sensitive to low temperatures
trying to find that middle ground

I'm as dazed and confused
like a rabbit caught in the headlights
because there are no answers to some questions

the purpose of snow
precipitation? or lining the earth
with a decorative blanket