Its Own Rainbow

Above the clouds,
the precipitation is cold
enough for snow.
These flakes are tiny,
no more than sparkling dust,
floating on winds
coming out of the Balkans,
crossing the Pirin range
before stirring the waters
of the Mesta River
in the Razlog valley.

Бог is raining diamonds,
on the tourists
and their hosts.
Or each tiny crystal
is carrying its own rainbow.
The wind on cables
sounds like whale-song:
such irony as lies in that
I leave for others to find.

I breathe in the air
and the diamond dust
melts in me.

Footnote:

Бог (pronounced "Bog) is Bulgarian for God