Beneath the silent, frosty dome,
Where whispers of the cold winds roam,
The ice lays still, a crystal sea,
A mirror of tranquility.

Each frozen breath, a tale untold,
Of winters past and nights so cold,
It holds within its glassy heart,
The secrets of the world’s fine art.

The sky reflects in icy gaze,
A dance of light in frozen haze,
The stars above and earth below,
United in their wintry glow.

Yet as the sun begins to rise,
The ice will melt in soft disguise,
And rivers flow where once was still,
The cycle turns, as nature will.