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Writing Poem thng, Winter Night

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Winter night

Your feet crinkle with each step you take through forest path. The night is young, not a cloud in the sky leaving the twinkling gems to hang in the night unobstructed. A gently breeze blows the snow about creating trails of white to streak across the ground.

Snowflakes are but memories, some happy some not. Each are special in their own way. They all eventually fall blending into the ground amongst so many others, most forgotten or lost amongst the sea of white.

Then tell me, what of the moon and stars high in the sky? Well, those are the highest moments, ones saved to be preserved, worthy of being egnologed and shown to the world below. The sparkling moon brightest of all, reflecting off the pool of scattered thoughts as if to say they are no less important. 

Stare upwards at the good, and learn from the bad. For once a new year has dawned it shall all be washed away with the warmth of the sun. New memories shall grow from the land to be nurtured and explored. Most will go un-noticed but some will stand out like the stars.

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