Looking through the frosted pane I see,
reflected off the newly fallen white.
There is something tantalizingly beautiful,
about this magical scene,
set before me.
Shadows play back and forth,
chasing each other.
A game of their own choosing
of darkness and light.
Of a sudden,
Winter's breath exhales,
and small Pixies of crystal and light ,
dance in a whirlwind ,
across the winter tableau.
I am mesmerized ,
as the face of the moon breaks free,
from the shrouds of mist,
that imprisoned its' radiant glow.
The world springs to life,
shades of blue and gray and white,
thrown together in a snowy prism.
The Pixies dance at a feverish pace ,
of glitter and sparkle and bright.
As I stare,
I am humbled at this magical creation.
Even the elderly oaks , firs and pines ,
with hair dusted white.
Bow their heads in homage,
to the keeper of the night.