"On Winter Morning" Written By Milena Grubor

The pale sun breaks the distant eastern sky,

Beneath a brittle air, the dark fields lie.

The frosted window holds a fragile sheen,

Reflecting all the sorrow I have seen.

Melancholy follows every written line,

For lovely things that were not truly mine.

As snow erases fields of former green,

I long for joy that I have never seen.

The silence rings within the empty room,

Where ghosts of laughter died within the gloom.

Will I discover what my soul must know?

Or only watch the endless winter grow?

My spirit dances with the falling flake,

A memory that sleeping senses wake.

It recalls the past, a life that was more bright,

When winter did not hold such empty light.

That brighter time, where cold did not remain,

The soul's true season, untouched by this pain.

I wrap the cold around my waiting heart,

And watch the world in slow, frozen start.