In a land where the silent snow falls,
Underneath the moon's soft glow,
Whose woods these are, the heart recalls,
His home lies where the village candles flow.
He won't see me in the snow's embrace,
Watching seasons' quiet show,
In this serene, untouched space,
Where whispered secrets softly blow.
My little horse, curious and keen,
Finds the stillness strange and rare,
Between the woods, so serene,
And the frozen lake's stark, empty stare.
On the darkest night, under the sky so clear,
We stand in silence, the world seems to hear.
With a shake of bells, a gentle chime,
My horse queries this pause in time.
The wind's caress, a flake's descent,
In this moment, our spirits bend.
To the rhythm of nature's gentle sweep,
A symphony of the night, vast and deep.
An echo of movement, soft and slight,
In the embrace of the darkest night.
The woods whisper, lovely, dark, and deep,
With promises that I must keep.
Miles to go before I sleep,
Miles to weave into dreams so steep.
Under the canopy of starlit skies,
We ponder the journey, the where and whys.
With each step forward, a promise we reap,
In the heart of the woods, where secrets sleep.
As dawn breaks, and night fades away,
The journey continues, come what may.
With miles behind and miles ahead,
In the woods of whispering snow, we tread.