Winter

The world draped in a blanket of white, Crisp and still, as if holding its breath, The trees, stark and quiet, Stand guard over a silent realm, Each flake that falls a world unto itself, A fleeting moment of perfect beauty, Whispers of warmth hidden within the cold.

And I tread softly, Hearing the crunch beneath my feet, Listening to the sighs of the earth, As it rests and rejuvenates, In this sacred hush of winter, I find the shadows of my heart, In the stillness, the embrace Of this dormant beauty, this peace.

• D H Lawrence