The Silver Breath of Winter

When winter comes whispering through the door,
With breath of frost and heart of lore,
The world grows still beneath her hand,
A hush of white across the land.

The trees wear gowns of crystal lace,
The wind moves soft through time and space.
Each flake that falls, a poem untold,
Each dawn a dream in threads of gold.

The rivers sleep beneath their glass,
As silent hours gently pass.
The hearth within begins to glow,
While outside, drifts of silver grow.

The children’s laughter fills the sky,
Their rosy cheeks, their joyful cry.
The world may freeze, but hearts stay warm,
Love glowing bright through every storm.

The fox leaves tracks in shining snow,
The moon above begins to glow.
The stars hang low on skies of gray,
While peace descends and night holds sway.

Beneath the frost, the roots still breathe,
The earth prepares her quiet sheath.
For though the world seems cold and bare,
New life is waiting hidden there.

Winter, wise and whispering friend,
You teach that endings never end.
That rest can bloom, and silence sing,
And death itself gives birth to spring.

So let it snow, let tempests play,
Let silver nights outshine the day.
For in the chill, the soul can see—
The warmth of love, the gift of peace.

And when you come, oh winter near,
I’ll meet you not with dread, but cheer.
For every breath, each crystal part,
Writes frozen verses on my heart.