Winter whispers so softly to me:
Mournfully dignified murmurings;
Stillness of a welcomed demise -
A purge of striving and of want;
An intercession of peacefulness.
Under a comforting mantle white,
Life and death dance and mingle -
Winter sings a dark solemn dirge.
I listen with the ears of my soul,
Hearing promises and praises true:
Of glories to come from the womb;
Of glories to come from the tomb.
(photography by tiwago)