Winter’s Grace

In winter’s grip, the earth is still, A tranquil pause, a quiet thrill, The world is wrapped in soft white lace, Holding tight to the dream of grace.

Each snowflake whispers sweet repose, On silent fields, in the deepening close, Within the frost, the heartbeat waits, For the light of spring to part the fates.

And as the chill winds begin to rise, We gather warmth beneath steel skies, For within this cold, the heart does trace, The promise of life, through winter’s grace.

• Robert Penn Warren