The hope in winter’s arms was always alluring,
It held together the grace of life, assuring.
Beneath the cracks and frozen cold,
A burgeoning life existed-often told.
But it was different again, the harshest tread,
Reborn eyes and hairs of green thread.
Red ribbons frigid yet born anew,
Petals of icy life and blooming debut.
Tomorrow may still be frosted frozen–
But today chilled hope springs divinely chosen…
The hope in winter’s arms was grace,
And, in its place, an ice-covered heavenly face
