The winter sky unfolds in silver lace,
A hush drifts low and settles on the ground.
The world slows down its long and hurried pace,
As frost paints every leaf it’s softly found.
The moon hangs pale, a lantern in the cold,
Its glow a whispered promise in the air.
The trees stand patient, ancient, stoic, bold,
Their branches etched like scripture, clean and bare.
Snowflakes wander down in drifting dance,
Each one a fleeting jewel, a breath, a spark.
They land like secrets offered by chance,
Bright constellations blooming in the dark.
The wind moves through the night with gentle grace,
A storyteller humming low and deep.
It weaves through chimneys, touches every place,
And rocks the silent rooftops into sleep.
Yet in the stillness, warmth begins to grow —
A candle’s flame, a laugh behind a door.
For winter, though it brings the hush of snow,
Reminds us what our hearts are burning for.
So let the season wrap the world in white,
A quiet crown the earth is proud to wear.
For winter’s cold reveals a deeper light —
A beauty born from silence, crisp and rare.