Winter Light

The light is pale on the frost-bitten earth, Like a thought just at the edge of reason, Each breath of wind a shivering reminder, That life stirs beneath the icy crust, Where the wild hares dart in the distance.

There is a purity in the winter air, A clarity that cuts through the fog of time, And the silence, deep as the quiet hour, Holds its breath, waiting for the thaw, For spring’s gentle fingers to break the dusk.

• George Mackay Brown