In the heart of winter, I stand,
Surrounded by a landscape of white silence.
The snow blankets the earth,
Each flake a delicate touch,
Soft, yet unyielding
in its cold embrace.
The trees are skeletal fingers,
Reaching up to a sky of muted gray,
Their limbs bare, stripped of life,
Yet beautiful in their stark simplicity.
I watch, an observer, detached,
My breath visible in the frigid air.
I do not impose
warmth upon the scene,
Nor do I seek comfort in its cold beauty.
I accept it, as it is,
A world of stillness and quiet.
In this frozen moment,
I find clarity, a vision unclouded
By the warmth of human emotion.
The winter world speaks in whispers,
Its language one of stillness,
A silent meditation on existence.
I stand, HuMan in the snow,
In tune with the cold,
Seeing the world without colour,
Without sound, without feeling,
still seeking all the same
to understand.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2026 05:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Mutley Ravishes, sorenbarrett, Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments5
Keep on standing, and rolling, Arqios!
We strip the bones bare to understand the structure and see beyond the surface. Yet arriving at the core in simplicity we see that we are all what we are and in that beauty acceptance a cold stark truth, undeniable all are part of the same nature. A lovely poem and a fave my friend
Yes! "we are all what we are!" that's so very true. Thanks dear Soren 🙏🕊️
You are most welcome Cryptic
I always think the snow comes down to cover up bad gardens, if only for a time.
Winter sure is the reflection time, good or bad.
We promise ourselves change, and some manage, most don't.
I have shared that cover up that on several occasions. Good of you to voice that out, Paul. A neutral reflection that stirs up promises and change, an excellent insight. 🕊️🙏
Good write A.
thanks so much O🕊️🙏
Arqios, this is stark and contemplative. It feels stripped down to essentials…no sentiment, no adornment, just still presence. The restraint gives it real gravity. Well done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
It was a hope that restraint allows the reader to supply and fill out the poem in their experiencing of it. An attempt at intrinsically participative poetry. Thanks T, as always 🙏🕊️
Amen…and you pulled it off, dear friend!
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