In the quiet of a winter’s morn,
January whispers softly, reborn.
Frosted branches hold the light,
As dreams awaken from the night.
The snowflakes dance with gentle grace,
Painting white on earth’s embrace.
Each breath of air, a promise made,
A canvas where new hopes are laid.
Beneath the sky, so vast and wide,
Resolutions in the heart reside.
A time to mend, a time to grow,
As rivers beneath the ice still flow.
January’s chill, both harsh and kind,
Invites reflection in the mind.
With every dawn, a chance to see,
The beauty of what is yet to be.