I don't mind this pace of life,
Slowly punctuating empty space
With unhurried words in single aim
Of catching up and willing good,
A lovely home to build and sit therein.

The frost is as starlight,
Sun scattered to galaxies through the dew,
I watch these frigid mornings bloom,
Like a candle snuffed at daybreak,
The frost is gone, the warmth deep set beneath,
The frost is as whispers.