In the white night, the bare branches dance with the snowflakes
In the white night, the bare branches dance with the snowflakes,
Whispering stories of dreams floating on the horizon,
Fragile as mist, ready to disperse in the wind.
My thoughts stumble, flowing like an uncharted river,
Reminding me of a moment suspended in time, captured in a lens,
A frozen memory of what could have been, what could become.
In the silent cold, without the sun, only the purity of snow prevails,
Whispering to me that beauty is born even in the absence of light,
That dreams, though delicate, are not always without substance.
My consciousness runs, tripping over unspoken thoughts,
And I understand that I must seize the fleeting moment, live it,
For dreams are there, waiting to be touched, embraced.
Oh, my soul, do not let fear freeze your desires!
The branches of life may seem bare, but they are full of promises,
Waiting only for you to give them life, to dress them in the colors of hope.
And even if the wind howls menacingly, always remember:
Your dreams, no matter how fragile, are stronger than you think,
Reach out and grasp them now, while they are still there, while you are still you.
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