Winter silently holds its steely grip of death over the land;
Waves of ice, frozen in time, frost the tundra with a crusty glaze;
Thick smoke reluctantly billows from sleepy chimneys and tailpipes;
Ground blizzards whoop and holler in delight,
peeking in through windows and racing over the pavement;
Gusts of pure cold blast straight through the skin, shocking the heart,
numbing the bones,
and leaving one breathless with exhaustion;
Fragile human bodies tremble with uncontrolled spasms of shivering as teeth chatter, feet violently stomp the ground,
and hands and arms rub together in a mad frenzy to keep warm,
responding to an innate need for self-preservation;
Mountains of snow bury marooned vehicles,
held captive until the thaw of spring;
From a safe distance,
the sun peers in through a hole in the clouds,
reduced for the time being to the status of an impotent spectator;
But cheer up, Oh land!
Winter is but for a season, and soon the Spring will spring!
Then the warmth of the sun will return in the power and fullness of its glory;
The grass will sprout,
the leaves will return to clothe the naked trees,
the flowers will bloom and carpet the land in a symphony of colors,
the birds will burst forth in cheerful song,
life will blossom and triumph once again,
and the earth will be reborn.