The stars shine bright in the clear morning air.
Not a cloud can be seen as Jack Frost goes about
His crystalline dance upon the streets of the world.
Silence.
Only the sound of the muffled pops of a fire,
Reduced to embers by a caretaker long since taken to slumber.
Eyes droop and the loving woolen embrace of the bed beckons.
Loved ones having long since heeded it's call.
But still the magic fills the soul.
The winter night awakens the flame of the child's soul,
Within the man
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem