A soft timpani 

of evening snow

falls

 

gathers and dissolves 

 

no imprint 

no trace 

remains of the dance 

 

yet Winter writes concertos 

on the heart 

suturing with notes 

of crystal lace 

 

beauty's fire

melting ice

reveal a hidden manuscript 

 

where silence swells 

between refrains 

and wisdom ripens

fragile wounds