A frozen morning dew clings to the conifer needle in a wintery woods.

When Frost Holds Its Breath

Silent frost-glazed trees

Stillness embraces the dawn

Frozen dew drops dream

The forest seemed to hold its breath on this winter morning, frozen in a mist of silence as frost held fast to every rustling branch. Icy dewdrops hung, dreaming of the sun that would soon wake them to light and glistening. But for now, winter’s quiet beauty remained, delicate and patient, waiting to shimmer into being under warm rays yet to come. In that hushed space between night and day, beauty was born of stillness.