When winter walks with silver feet,
The world grows silent the air turns sweet.
A breath of ice cubes on every tree,
Like transparent dreams the eye can see.
The morning wakes in sheets of white,
Soft as prayer and peace as night.
Each leaf that danced in summer’s excuse
Now rests beneath a pale embrace.
The rivers slow their restless song,
As icy arms grow still and strong.
And winds that once were wild and free
Now hum a quiet melody.
In every home, a gentle glow,
Warmth against the drifting snow.
Stories rise like curling flame,
Each heart and hearth just the same.
Though winter seems so cold and bare,
There’s hidden life still waiting there.
For in its silence, deep and true,
It softly shapes the world new.
When winter walks with silver feet, The world grows silent the air turns sweet. A breath of ice cubes on every tree, Like transparent dreams the eye can see. The morning wakes in sheets of white, Soft