As the crimson flame of life

Breaks slowly

Above the horizon,

The white, frosted meadows,

With trees and hedgerows

Of sculptured ice,

Speak loudly

Of your presence.

Once more

Upon this journey,

As another day begins,

Without effort

Or intrusion,

Through the peace

And tranquility

Of your silent voice,

The moment becomes eternal,

And the journey

Begins again.