Ice Break

The lake was like a bit of ice in the grip of winter,

A still world-a block of mirrored glass.

Whisperings went in wind across,

And skeletal branches grasped with stark, withered arms bare.

Below that frost, some waters slumbered,

An unseen world-a secret kept so cold and slumberous there.

Locked in the frozen clock, timelessly locked white,

Held low beneath pale lunar light.

Seasons shift as well as time may do,

And suddenly one feels the beginnings of that longing ooze into view.

The sun returns with golden hands,

To warm the face of frozen lands.

Its gentle touch, a lover's call,

To break the chains, to free it all.

A single drop, a sound so small,

Yet echoes deep beneath it all.

A fracture grows, a hidden scar,

A tremor felt both near and far.

Then comes the groan, the aching sigh,

Like ancient voices trapped inside.

A sudden snap, a shattering scream,

Ice gives way to running streams.

The stirring lake, whose prison breaks,

With crystalline shards in sunbeams shakes.

A thousand lost mirrors flow,

Returning life to depths below.

Free-swarmed fish where ice did lie,

Waters, that knew the dance, and current's sigh.

Winter's iron hold now breaks,

And forth, so fresh, so bold, Spring makes.

It may be the ice breaks loose and the cold flees,

But instead, new dreams run wild.

For even silence, stark and deep,

Shall wake again from winter's sleep. The river sings a waking song,

Under the moon of April strong. The chains of icy might are broke,

And waters gleam in silver smoke.

Breaking their fragments like a glass,

Melt in soft wavelets to the grass. The ripple spreads, the circle widens,

Kissing the shore it hath not kissed.

The trees lean to with eager cheer,

Whispering tales of spring drawing near. Their branches, erst so stiff with frost,

Now bend and sway with buds almost.

The air is heavy with earthy musk,

Of melting snow and thawing dust.

Birds return with voices bright,

Singing songs of warmth and light.

No more the silence reigns,

Gone the hush of ice's pain.

The world exhales, a deep release,

The breaking ice brings whispered peace.

But in the depths, where shadows glide,

The memory lingers, deep inside.

For seasons turn and time moves fast,

Yet winter's breath will always last.

Someday soon, when autumn wanes,

This chill will creep through lake and plain.

This frost will weave its glass again,

And ice will claim the world as then.

Yet though it comes, and though it stays,

The break will come—just as today.

For no cold lasts, no dark remains,

The ice will break, and life sustains.

The cycle turns, as cycles do,

From frozen white to waters blue.

And though the ice may claim its keep,

It never holds what wants to leap.

The river sings, the lake replies,

Under endless shifting skies.

Storms may come, the winds may wail,

Yet life will rise, it will prevail.

The whispering reeds along the shore

Sway in rhythms known before.

They bend, they bow, they stretch, they grow,

Drinking deep from melting snow.

The ice remembers, the ice forgets,

Breaking free with no regrets.

Its silent rule, its fleeting stay,

A kingdom made to fade away.

Yet as it leaves, it speaks in cracks,

A voice that echoes never lacks.

A lesson carved in shifting seams—

No winter lasts, no dream just dreams.

For deep within the cold embrace,

Lies hidden strength, a quiet grace.

And when the thaw breaks through the chain,

It proves that nothing stays the same.

So let the rivers rage and run,

Let thawing earth embrace the sun.

The ice may break, the chill may die,

But it will return—so waves reply.

And when it does, we'll stand once more,

Beside the lake, upon the shore.

Watching as the world reclaims,

The cycle's dance, the seasons' games.

For though we shiver, though we ache,

We know the truth—the ice will break.The ice will break, it always does,

No force can halt what time adjusts.

Like fleeting breath on winter air,

It lingers long, but won't stay there .

The river, restless in its bed,

Calls forth the spring, dispels the dread.

No longer caught in frozen chains,

It leaps and swirls through thawing plains.

The forest wakes, its roots take hold,

Through earth once stiff, once bitter cold.

Saplings stretch with trembling grace,

Reaching skyward, finding place.

The echoes of the ice's fall

Still haunt the lake, still touch us all.

The sudden groan, the sharp refrain,

A song of loss, a song of gain.

For though the frost once seemed so vast,

It too must yield, it too must pass.

Its reign is short, its grasp unsure,

No grip of winter can endure.

And yet, beneath the shifting tide,

A hidden truth the waters hide.

The ice, though gone, will come again,

As sure as loss, as sure as pain.

But do not fear its frozen call,

For even ice must crack and fall.

Even sorrow, deep and wide,

Will one day break—like shifting tides.

So let the rivers rage and swell,

Let melting streams the stories tell.

For what was lost will find its way,

And ice will break again—someday.