The Snowstorm
The snow storm is upon us, The world is shrouded in white, The branches of the trees are laden, As they bow beneath the weight of the night.
The silence is profound, As if the world took a breath, And in this stillness I have found, A moment that feels like life or death.
For in this winter’s hold, I find a beauty unique, A magic woven of silver and gold, In every flake that feels so meek.
- John Burroughs