Icy cold,
Cold as snow
Trickling flurries
Fall below.
Lightly on
Each branch of tree,
Piling up
Mercilessly.
Can you feel
Feel the cold?
Hold your warmth,
Hold your soul.
There is no cold,
There is no fire,
Just the Earth -
In white attire.
Seasons change,
Slow day by day,
Soon bloom fades
The white away,
For without our ups and downs,
And without such turnabouts,
Life gets dreary, pace unfound.
Seasons, cycles,
These ups and downs -
Well darling, that's what makes life fun.