When Winter Speaks

When winter speaks, the world turns still,

A whispered breath upon the hill.

The trees stand bare, their branches stark,

Etched in frost 'neath skies so dark.

Her voice is soft, yet crisp and clear,

A frozen song we pause to hear.

Each snowflake falls, a silent rhyme,

A fleeting note in wintertime.

The rivers hush beneath her spell,

Encased in ice, where echoes dwell.

Her words weave crystals on the ground,

A sparkling quilt where dreams are found.

Yet winter speaks not just of cold,

But of renewal, quiet, bold.

She tells of rest, a needed pause,

A prelude to spring's vibrant cause.

So heed her voice, her gentle plea,

To find the beauty, still and free.

For when she speaks, she softly shows,

The strength in silence, and how it grows.