In the hush of January’s breath,
Frozen whispers dance upon the air,
Silent echoes of the world’s rebirth,
As time unfolds its new, untold tale.
The trees stand bare, yet full of grace,
Their branches reach toward the sky,
A canvas painted with dreams of white,
Beneath the watchful, gentle eye.
Frost-kissed mornings greet the light,
Promises hidden in the cold,
Each step a journey through the chill,
Stories of warmth and hope retold.
In January’s quiet, we find our strength,
A month that whispers of new beginnings,
Wrapped in the stillness of winter’s cloak,
We embrace the promise of spring’s awakening.