Whispers of Solitude in Snow

In the realm where winter weaves its silent tale,
Beneath the hush of falling snow, a solitude prevails.
A world blanketed in crystalline white,
Where time itself takes pause, suspended in delight.

Each flake descends with grace, a dance in slow refrain,
A symphony of stillness, an eloquent refrain.
The world, a canvas of solitude in serene repose,
Where the heart finds solace, as introspection grows.

The forest stands adorned, a cathedral of frost,
Branches etched with whispers of a solitude embossed.
Footprints left behind, a transient mark in snow,
A testament to journeys taken, a silent ebb and flow.

In the vast expanse where every sound is muffled,
Solitude becomes a friend, a companion gently shuffled.
The crunch of boots on snow, a subdued echo,
As footsteps leave impressions, a tale of solitude below.

A lone cabin nestled in the arms of winter's embrace,
Smoke tendrils waltz, an intimate interlace.
A chimney exhales dreams in puffs of warmth,
A refuge from the cold, where solitude takes its form.

The world outside, a tableau painted in muted hues,
As solitude deepens, contemplation ensues.
In the quietude, the mind becomes a tranquil lake,
Reflecting thoughts like snowflakes, delicate and opaque.

Winter's breath, a gentle whisper in the ear,
A reminder that solitude is not to be feared.
For in the stillness, a profound truth unfolds,
The soul finds its sanctuary, a haven to behold.

The snowflakes, messengers of solitude's decree,
Invoke a sacred silence, an invitation to be free.
Each crystalline form, a fragment of the serene,
A reminder that solitude is a landscape to glean.

So, let the snowflakes fall, in their delicate descent,
Blanketing the world in a hushed sacrament.
Embrace the solitude, let introspection flow,
For in the heart of winter, true solace we shall know.

-Khushi Kaul