In winter's whisper, wondrous and white, 

A path unwound in the hush-hallowed night. 

Through the forest's frosty, frozen sprawl, 

Beneath the moon's muted, mystical call.

 

Footsteps faltered in the snow's soft sigh, 

Where shadows and silhouettes subtly lie. 

Amidst the chill, a charm so slight— 

A lone flower blooming, braving the blight.

 

Its petals, a defiance against the drear, 

In the heart of cold, it appeared so clear. 

A bloom in the bleak, a whispering light, 

A glimmer of grace in the grim frostbite.

 

Its courage kindled a warmth within, 

A symphony of life, silently to begin. 

In winter's embrace, stoic and strong, 

The flower stood, where it belonged.

 

So through the forest, forevermore, 

I walk in wonder, as I did before. 

For in the snow's deep, delicate cloak, 

Lies a promise of spring, softly awoke.

 

©2023  William A. Smith