Snow does something magical

Snow does something magical, I think;

Creating a blank skate, can I start over now?

It fuels first loves, the paths criss crossing in a storm, a blizzard that lingers in the memories.

People have been lost to the snow, frozen fingers lost forever— but I think I have been lost to it in a different way.

Falling flakes from skies of gray and wind blowing, fighting against those who would wish to tame it. Snow is free. Snow is magical.

Because if I look out my window on a night where all is dark, and if the snow is falling down, it sweeps me away. 
Maybe everything will be okay?

For one night, one storm, I am lost to the snow, and I think if I got lost inside a blizzard I might not even feel the cold for being so enchanted with the crystals in my hair, slowly turning it white as if age has caught up to me in minutes. But when the warmth comes and it melts, it reminds me I am still young- but I feel as if I have been alive centuries as I gaze into flurries that have brushed cheeks and cold that has blushed them, snow that has been here for centuries. 
Snow does something magical, worries forgotten, futures rewritten, hope re-ignited. 
I am lost to the snow each winter, and when summer comes I wish I could feel its cold kiss once again.