Laying here covered in blankets of white,

trying to stay warm this cold December night.

Looking up to the only soure of light

as Orion's asterism catches my sight.

A Wind from the East takes snowflakes a flight

while the deluge of snow has got me packed in tight,

but the warmth inside me prolons frostbite;

 

Tempted to close my eyes to lose myself in a dream

but that vexatious Wind keeps me them open to this scene:

an eden of evergreens iced in buttercream

slow dancing to the Wind's song of amaranthine

that kindles my heart and fuels my belief.

A belief like when there's footsteps along the stream

but the ungulate itself passed through unseen;

 

The frost has stolen the touch on my skin,

and the air is too sharp to breath in.

But to ignore His reflection in the ice would be a sin,

although I only see it every now and again

and uncover another secret in this wintry haven.

So I must rely on the reminder from the Wind

singing to me; now calling to me,"Madeleine..."