Sometimes in winter
I walk alone, deep within the woods.
Cold wind whispers through bare branches
When late in afternoon
Darkness begins to grow.
Of course, I shiver—
Fight against a bitter fear
That clings upon the heart
With quiet piercing chill.
How changed it is from when
Summer woods were lush and green.
Yet even in this silence
Found in opening of the year,
Wild music soft as clinking crystal ice;
Rustling of dead reeds that wraps
Around river’s frozen bend.
Sitting upon the bed of snow,
I yearn to catch deep meaning
Brought by biting wind that blows,
Sense a subtle bond that links,
Lingering among old trees.
Some may think this a barren time.
For me it is close to paradise—
This fading glint of dazzling light
Against a silent world of white
Stretching endless to horizon of my sight.