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musing on a winter’s night
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It is a quiet night, the air is still.
The chill of winter touches each pane.
Under a streetlight's gentle beam,
snowflakes twirl in a silent dance.
The street lies muted,
a figure moves slowly.
His steps quietly crunching
in the blanket of snow.
What is this echo
of a forgotten ache
that stirs my heart,
making it fluster?
Why does my mind drift
to a southern place
where magnolias bloom
in ornate bunches?
Petals soft
against dark green leaves,
a scene of spring
that warms the thoughts.
These snowflakes drift in gentle arcs.
From darkness they come,
to darkness return.
Within me a sudden start,
and swells and soars to every part?
As winter's grip tightens,
spring seems distant.
Yet in my soul, there shines a star.
A silent hope in the frost's embrace,
of warmer days and kinder space.
The snow keeps falling, night wears on.
In my thoughts, a springtime dawn.
Though winter reigns with icy hands,
in dreams of bloom,
my heart still stands.
.
