Written on May 31, 2025
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it comes alive, stirring the soul waking the spirit to a world painted by snowfall’s gentle brush like a white canvas, the first steps across the blanketed path leave imprints of hope, imprints revealing what it means to see silence at war with nature’s breath it laughs at the hurried steps of a heart rushing past autumn’s light as she breathes her caress, against the sun who blends with the forest to calm every ache, each storm beyond the music of the leaf’s quiet fall, the dance of fall silence, she weeps through it all her pen soothing away the sound interfering with her muted breath
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