In a world wrapped tight in winter’s breath,
Where shadows stretch like whispers of death,
I walk on paths of silver frost,
Each step a reminder of warmth I’ve lost.
The trees stand bare, their secrets exposed,
With branches that ache, like stories unclosed.
The sky hangs heavy, a slate of gray,
While silence swallows the light of day.
My breath, a ghost in the crisp, cold air,
I wander through echoes of what once was fair.
The wind weaves a tune, both haunting and sweet,
A lullaby played for the lost and the beat.
But in this stillness, a flicker remains,
A spark in the dark that quietly gains.
For even alone, in this frozen expanse,
I find solace in shadows, a glimmer of a chance.
With each lonely hour, a new strength unfurls,
In the heart of the cold, a warmth softly swirls.
And though I may wander, unseen, out of sight,
In this cold world alone, I embrace my own light.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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